The Guesthouse at Autumn Lake (Autumn Lake #1)

1. Penny

1

Penny

“T here’s something rather… euphoric about pulling into a place that feels like home after having been away for ten long months.” Even as she said the words aloud, Penny knew they made little sense, even to her. Not only was this place not her home, but these next two months were, in fact, her time away from home, not the other way around. Eventually, she’d have to return to her own life and pick up the pieces of everything she’d left behind.

But until then, until July wound down and August reared its responsibility-laden head, she wouldn’t think about that.

In the air-conditioned comfort of her car, while her road trip playlist piped out another Ranae song, Penny gave herself a stern look in the rearview mirror. Then, she placed a hand over her heart and declared, “I, Penelope Eva Anderson, do solemnly swear that I will leave my worries at home where they belong, and that I will wake up each morning in this beautiful place with a spirit of gratitude and hope and anticipation for whatever the day will bring.”

The vow was one she made to herself every summer before she set foot out of her car in the lovely little town of Autumn Lake.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax and the spinning plates she always seemed to be balancing in her mind to drop.

Outside the car windows, the late-morning sun shone warmly down on the lush front lawn of the bed-and-breakfast Penny would call her home away from home for the next two months. Flowerbeds awash in early summer color pooled whimsically around the base of the wraparound porch, a telltale sign of the green thumb who resided at the property. Behind the house, sprawling out from the back door like rainbow rays, was the rest of the garden Hazel Poleman tended so meticulously. Penny could hardly wait to make her way back there so she could revel in the ordered chaos of flowers and vegetables cohabiting the space so beautifully. There was also a small orchard of stone fruit trees, their branches aggressively pruned to hang low for easy picking, and several apple and pear trees espaliered against a south-facing brick wall to make the most of the space. She itched to get her hands dirty, to bury her fingers in the rich, dark soil that was the foundation of Hazel’s gardens.

Just as she reached down to turn off the ignition, Taylor Swift’s “Shake it off” riffed out through the speakers. Penny laughed gleefully and turned up the volume. She popped the trunk latch from her key fob and scrambled out of her seat, leaving the car running so the song could play loud and proud. It would be her summer anthem, she decided, and she let herself shimmy-shimmy-shake-shake to the catchy rhythm of the song.

Eyeing the basket of groceries—nonperishables she’d keep stashed in her room for late-night reading binges—and the bag of her shoes in her back seat, she realized she’d have to make at least two trips. She left the driver’s side door wide open so she could hear the music and bopped her way around to the back of the car. Singing along with the words she knew far too well for someone her age, she shook her backside as she unloaded her small suitcase of clothes and personal items, followed by her much larger duffel bag loaded with the books she’d brought with her. Most of them she’d already read over the last school year; she’d donate those to the Autumn Lake Library when she paid the place a visit in the next few days. But there were several she hadn’t been able to get to, and she was determined to do so before she made her way to The Cracked Spine in town to restock her to-be-read pile. She had a whole new list of books to pick up from Claire Maitland, the owner of the bookstore on Dahlia Drive, so the pressure was on, as the proprietress would say, to get to cracking spines. Book spines, of course.

It had always struck Penny as a bit of a morbid name for a bookstore. Claire acknowledged that it did sound more like a chiropractor’s office than a bookstore, but she didn’t care. “It’s my life’s work to get people reading, and that means cracking some spines. I want them to love books so much they all but fall right into them.” With her waist-length blonde hair, her porcelain features, and her willowy figure, Claire looked like she’d stepped right out of a fairy tale herself.

Penny hoisted the heavy bag of books onto her shoulder, then closed the trunk lid, still singing along with Ms. Swift. It was a little harder to shimmy and shake all loaded up the way she was, especially since her old suitcase had a broken wheel that kept getting stuck sideways. But she still managed a little jiggle-jiggle as she dragged her suitcase toward the front steps of the old waterfront guesthouse where she would be staying for the next two months. The wraparound porch beckoned her already, and she couldn’t wait to fill a Mason jar with Hazel’s homemade lemonade and settle into one of the comfortable old patio chairs with a brand-new romance novel.

She managed to lug her things up the wide steps to the front porch, and although the privacy screen door prevented her from seeing inside, she already knew that the heavy front door stood wide open to allow the cooling breeze from off the water to circulate through the house.

She rapped gently on the screen door, then pulled it open, not waiting to be invited in. There were no formalities at The Garden Gate Guesthouse.

The front parlor sat empty, but that wasn’t unusual, especially this early in the season. Come July, though, when the summer temperatures hit their peak, especially in the middle of the day, guests were much more likely to head inside and make good use of the comfortable furnishings just to stay out of the worst of the midday heat.

“Hazel?” Penny called out, smiling as she heard banging coming from down the hall.

Hazel, the delightfully eccentric proprietress of the bed-and-breakfast, had a bit of a reputation for being a wannabe Rosie the Riveter. She’d fearlessly tackle repairs around the place, only to have to give in and ask for help, often after she’d exacerbated the original problem. The septuagenarian claimed to love being self-sufficient, but sometimes, especially in the last couple of years, Penny got the feeling that Hazel wouldn’t mind having someone around to help her with keeping up with the house and property. The woman had mentioned as much on more than one occasion to Penny.

“For whatever reason, the good Lord didn’t see fit to surround me with a husband and children of my own. Instead, He gave me this house and told me to open up its doors. Sometimes, I admit, it seems more than I can handle on my own, but then, without fail, He sends just the right help my way, and I somehow manage.”

Penny would love nothing more than to be ‘just the right help’ for Hazel, but she knew that was an impossible dream. Her help was desperately needed elsewhere.

Back at home.

But she wasn’t going to think about that.

She left her suitcase and bag of books in the parlor and headed toward the sounds coming from the direction of the stairwell that sat just around the bend at the other end of the hall. She let her fingertips drift over the pattern of the vintage wallpaper, relishing in the familiarity of the kitschy décor. Her footsteps were muffled on the thick wool carpet runner under her feet. Nothing had changed about the place in so long, and as far as she was concerned, that was what made it feel so much like home to her.

Then she heard the buzzing shriek of a saw blade. “Oh, Hazel,” Penny murmured in trepidation. “What on earth?” In a surge of panic, she quickened her pace and rounded the corner, only to stop in surprise at the sight that greeted her.

A curtain of opaque painter’s plastic hung to the floor from where it was taped to the ceiling, closing off access to the stairs. The whir of the saw quieted momentarily. “Hazel, what are you doing?” she called out carefully, not wanting to startle the woman, lest she sever a thumb. Or worse. “No morbid thoughts while on vacation, Penster,” she chided herself.

When there was no response, Penny fumbled her way around the plastic enclosure until she found an opening and drew it back. The aroma of fresh-cut wood washed over her, and once again, she pulled up short.

“Oh!”

A man stood with his back to her, his shoulders and arms speckled with sawdust, his t-shirt damp with perspiration, and clinging to his torso. He leaned over a makeshift workbench constructed of a thick piece of plywood resting across two sawhorses. On it was the chop saw he’d just been using. He wore protective eyewear and a pair of chunky headphones, presumably sound protection, Penny surmised, since he clearly hadn’t heard her. He lifted an arm to grip the back of his neck, the motion tightening the muscles in his back and making his biceps bulge.

“Oh,” Penny said again, a little breathier this time, a flush warming her from head to toe. She fanned her face with one hand. It’s the heat in here. Of course, it’s the heat. It had to be a good fifteen degrees warmer inside the plastic-draped space.

Penny suddenly had no idea what to do. Should she make her presence known? Should she go back down the hall and make more noise so he would know she was coming? Should she run?

“Um, yes, Pen. Run!” It came out much louder than she’d intended, just as the guy pushed the headset away from his ears.

A sound that probably shouldn’t come out of a man—ever—came out of him. A shriek, not unlike the sound the saw had just been making. He spun on his heels, the headphones clattering to the floor behind him, his fists clenched at his sides, his mouth and eyes open wide in surprise.

Penny, in turn, let out a scream of her own, and she lurched backward, with the plastic sheeting still clutched in one hand. To her dismay, a few feet of the curtain pulled free of where it was taped to the ceiling.

The next sound that emanated from the guy was much manlier. A snarl. No, a growl, Penny decided. His eyes darted from her face to the plastic in her hand, up to the ceiling, and back again in quick succession.

“Sorry!” She let go of the sheeting and lifted both hands at her sides in the universal sign of I-mean-you-no-harm-don’t-hurt-me. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “I—I didn’t know you were in here.”

He narrowed his eyes and clamped his jaw shut as he glared at her. His chest—she was doing her best not to notice his very broad chest—rose and fell rapidly. His fists were still balled up, but he’d lowered them. That had to be an encouraging sign, right?

“I mean, I figured someone was in here. I just thought you were Hazel.” Like that didn’t make her sound a little crazy? Why on earth would Hazel be enclosed in a plastic bubble using power tools? Penny was pretty sure that the woman wouldn’t have bothered with the dust containment. No, Hazel would have wielded her power tools right out in the open for all to see.

What had she been thinking?

And why wasn’t the guy saying anything? Hadn’t she just apologized?

She lifted her chin and gave him as disdainful a look as she could muster. “Look, I said I was sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to scare you into letting out that man-scream.” He flinched at her choice of words to describe the noise he’d made, and she wanted to raise a triumphant fist. Good one, girlie. But then she immediately felt remorse. She wasn’t unkind by nature, and she didn’t like that this snarling, glowering man was goading her into saying things out of character for her. “Besides, you surprised me, too, you know. I—I thought—.”

“You thought Hazel was in here using power tools,” he finished for her, as though he’d read her mind. His tone, however, made it clear that he didn’t believe a word of it.

“Where is Hazel?” Penny asked, not liking his sarcasm. But at least the guy had found his voice. She crossed her arms and glowered back at him. “And who are you?”

“Who are you?” he shot back, crossing his own arms in what she could only assume was a mockery of her stance. So rude.

“I’m a guest here. Where is Hazel?” she demanded again, this time a bit more adamantly.

“She’s not here.” He thrust his chin at her. “And you’re not supposed to be here, either.” He bent over and scooped up his headphones, brushed sawdust off them, then set them beside the saw on the makeshift table.

“Uh, yes, I am,” Penny declared indignantly. “And who did you say you were, again?”

“I didn’t say,” the guy retorted as he busied himself doing something with a pencil and a tape measure. He had his back to her, so she couldn’t see what the project was, but curious as she might be, she wasn’t about to poke the bear even more by trying to sneak a peek around him.

Besides, she wanted a name. Someone she could put on her ‘ Who to Avoid this Summer’ list. A list that consisted mostly of men Hazel and her friends had tried to set her up to have summer romances with. They tried every stinkin’ year, no matter how often she insisted she wasn’t interested in such a thing.

She didn’t even have to wait for someone to suggest this guy. His name—at least, once she found out what it was—was going on her list immediately.

“Name’s Ward,” he tossed over his shoulder at her.

Penny blushed; could he read her mind? Was that even possible? And was Ward his first or last name?

He turned around again and leveled an impatient glare at her. “Hazel said no one would be here this morning. Said I’d have the place to myself at least until noon.”

Was he sulking? Penny had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. Hazel said… He sounded like one of her second graders. She glared right back at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your you-time?”

“No. You interrupted my work time.” He pointed at the ceiling where the plastic had come away from the tape, thanks to her. “You going to fix that?”

“Excuse me?” she spluttered.

“Are you going to fix that?” He said each word a little slower, like he thought her half-witted.

“I heard you the first time. And no. You can fix it yourself, bubble boy.” It was time to go. She’d just come back later when, hopefully, this rude, sweaty man wouldn’t be here.

As she spun on her heel, her foot tangled in the edge of the drooping plastic. Ward let out another strangled sound of warning, but it was too late. With her first angry step, she brought down the rest of the sheeting, and the whole thing drifted down around them like a billowy cloud.

Penny froze, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “Oh, no,” she groaned behind her fingers.

“Are you kidding me?” Behind her, Ward’s voice rang with frustration.

Dreading having to face him again but knowing there was no avoiding it—she couldn’t just run, no matter how badly she wanted to—Penny slowly turned back around, not even bothering to disentangle her foot from the plastic. “I am so sorry,” she murmured. “I really did not mean to do that.”

Ward stood with his hands propped low on his hips. His head was bowed, but she could see the muscles in his jaw bunch with restraint.

“I—I can help you put it back up, if you…” Her voice faded to silence as he lifted his head to glare at her. Her chin went up again, even though she felt a little sick over the chaos she’d just brought down around him. Literally. “Or I can just leave now.”

“You know, I think that’s a good idea.”

He really was awful, Penny decided. It had obviously been an accident. It wasn’t like she’d meant to tear down his work bubble. “Fine. Leaving. I’ll come back this afternoon when I’m supposed to be here,” she added, making air quotes around the word with her fingers.

He wasn’t wrong. She was early, and technically, check-in time wasn’t until three p.m. She’d tried to call Hazel to let her know she’d be arriving sooner than she’d expected, but the calls had just gone to voice mail. She’d gotten on the road several hours earlier than she’d originally planned, and she’d made remarkably good time, having avoided the worst of the morning traffic by leaving the city before rush hour. Hazel had never seemed to mind her showing up before check-in in the past, and Penny had just assumed today would be no different.

“You do that.” Ward was already turning away from her, stalking toward a ladder that was propped up against one wall.

In the silence that followed, Penny could hear the faint strains of music wafting down the hall toward them. She smacked herself in the forehead. “My car.” She’d left the thing running this whole time. She quickly disentangled her foot from the plastic and headed back the way she’d come. She only felt the tiniest bubble of shame at the state she was leaving him in, but that was because she was a nice person. In fact, if he had been even the tiniest bit nice, himself, she would have insisted on staying and helping. She may not know a whole lot about construction, but she worked with children. She was a master at taping.

Penny paused in the parlor for a moment, wondering if it was safe to leave her things there until she returned. She decided she’d better take them with her, just in case Bubble Boy harbored grudges. Who knew what he might do to her belongings if given the opportunity? Just because he was doing work for Hazel—she obviously trusted him enough to leave him alone in her house—didn’t mean Penny should blindly trust him.

She couldn’t take the stuff upstairs to her room, either, thanks to him blocking the stairs. “Technically,” she mused, darting a look back down the hall, a capricious grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks to me, the stairs are no longer blocked.”

But no, it probably wasn’t a good idea to drag her things through his demolished workstation just now. For all she knew, he’d close off the stairs while she was up in her room, and then she’d be stuck there until he left. And she was hungry.

Sighing loudly, she hoisted the duffel back up on her shoulder. Holding the screen door open with her rear end, she backed out, dragging her wobbly-wheeled suitcase over the threshold.

“Let me get that for you,” a male voice said from right behind her, and suddenly, the resistance of the screen door was gone, making her stumble backward.

For the second time that morning, Penny screeched in surprise. And then a third time, when the bag of books slipped off her shoulder and landed on her toes. Her suitcase, too, hit the floor, but thankfully, she managed to dodge that one.

The man on the porch sported a light blue t-shirt over a pair of cargo shorts, and on his feet were well-worn work boots. His backward baseball cap held his shoulder-length hair away from his face, and Penny couldn’t miss the far too amused grin he flashed at her as he watched her perform her hobble-in-circles dance. She had a sudden violent urge to throw something at him.

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped out, sounding a little too much like Ward, which only stoked her irritation. “There’s another one of you?”

The guy still held the screen door wide for her, but he slowly shook his head, his grin growing even bigger. “Far as I know, there’s only one of me.” He winked at her. “The world couldn’t handle more than one of all this.” With his free hand, he made an all-encompassing gesture at himself.

Granted, he was ridiculously good-looking in a casual construction worker kind of way. But so was Ward Whatever-His-Name-Was, which only proved her point.

Ward, who decided, at that moment, to make another surprise appearance, burst out of the house and onto the porch, tripped over her bag, and barely caught himself from careening into her.

Penny managed to hold in her squawk of surprise this time, although she forgot all about the throbbing pulse in her toes when he stopped barely a foot from her.

“What? What happened?” Ward made a quick assessment of the situation, obviously coming to some kind of—probably wrong—conclusion, then turned to her and barked, “What is it now?”

That was the last straw. Penny bent to snatch up the strap of her bag, but the ball cap guy started forward at the same time. She hesitated. She wasn’t about to get between the two monoliths. “I just—can you please….” She waved her hand aggressively between them. “Back off, both of you, so I can get my bag.”

Ball Cap stepped back, arms up in surrender. But Ward just stood there, practically straddling her books, still glaring at her. “I heard you scream. Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m all right. But no thanks to either of you.” She scowled at him, frustration at feeling so vulnerable warring with her bruised pride. She wasn’t usually so clumsy. In fact, she wouldn’t consider herself clumsy at all. “You scared the living daylights out of me,” she said, turning with the same dark expression to Ball Cap. “I mean, where did you even come from?”

“Sorry, little lady,” he said, reaching up to snatch the hat off his head. He shook his hair out, the sun-bronzed locks tumbling loose and messy around his face. Even to Penny’s not-so-experienced eyes, it was obvious that he expected her to go all gushy at the move. “I was just trying to be a gentleman and hold the door for you.”

But come on. Little lady? Did that still go over well with anyone these days? And just who was he calling little?

Penny had always been admittedly a bit too sensitive about her petite stature, and although she’d made peace with the fact that she sometimes still shopped in the junior clothes department, every once in a while, a comment like that could make her feel… well, small. Especially when it came from someone significantly larger than she was.

Ward cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “What took you so long, Alex? We’re even further behind schedule now,” he said churlishly, shooting a scathing look at Penny.

“Really?,” Penny said, planting her hands on her hips and returning his glare. “I said I was sorry. I offered to help. You kicked me out.”

Alex, that stupid grin still lighting up his face, bounced his gaze back and forth between Penny and Ward, clearly entertained, and not at all intimidated by Ward’s reprimand. “What’s going on here?” he asked, openly curious.

“Nothing,” they both retorted in unison.

“She was just leaving,” Ward added, then bent for her duffel bag. Penny winced at his surprised expression when he picked it up. “What’s in here? Bricks?”

She gave in and rolled her eyes. “Wow. And you’re funny, too.” But she wasn’t smiling. She held out her hand toward the bag. “I read, okay? They’re books. Give it to me.” It was so full that she hadn’t been able to close the zipper all the way, and she didn’t need him judging her about her reading material. So, she liked romance novels. Especially romantic comedies that also made her cry.

But guys, she had discovered firsthand, didn’t really understand that.

“I see.” But Ward didn't hand the bag over. Instead, he looped the strap over his shoulder, then peered down into the unzipped opening, cocking his head as he studied the contents. After a moment, with his face showing a rather surprising lack of judgment, he asked, “Where do you want these? Back seat or trunk?”

Alex picked up her suitcase, then the two of them stood there staring at her, waiting for her to tell them where to cart her things off to.

Penny was momentarily at a loss. Partly because the situation was so awkward and weird, but also because… well, because there were two offensively handsome men holding her things and awaiting her beck and call.

“Um...” She bit her bottom lip, then stopped immediately at the way Alex’s eyes widened appreciatively at the sight. She shook her head. “I can take them. I got them this far by myself.”

Ignoring her completely, Ward, followed closely by Alex, hauled her things right past her and down the steps toward her car. Apparently, the guys could hardly wait to get her loaded up and out of their way. “Okay, then,” she snipped, trying not to be offended. “The trunk will do.”

Penny reached inside her car to turn off the music, but she remained standing in the open driver’s side door.

“That it?” Alex asked, one hand still on the open trunk lid. Ward, however, gave her a barely there nod and started back toward the house.

“That’s it,” she confirmed, her jaw tight with indignation. She didn’t actually have to thank them, did she? Weren’t they, for all intents and purposes, all but booting her off the property?

Would Hazel be okay with that?

No, Hazel would not. Indeed, Penny couldn’t wait to tell her about this morning’s encounter. Ward the Builder had better prepare himself for a comeuppance. The thought brought a little levity to Penny’s insulted heart.

“Alex, by the way.” Alex closed the trunk, then circled the car toward her and stuck out his hand.

She hesitated only a moment, reminding herself that if these guys were working for Hazel, that meant they couldn’t be all bad.

Although, she had yet to hear as much out of Hazel’s mouth.

In fact, she hadn’t heard from Hazel since last Friday.

Hopefully, Hazel was, as Ward had said, out and about, and not locked in the basement in the dark.

Okay. Wow. That spiraled quickly. No morbid thoughts, remember? Penny cleared her throat. “I’m Penny. I’m supposed to be staying here at the guesthouse.” She shot a withering look at Ward’s back just before he disappeared inside. “I mean, not yet, according to your buddy, there. But starting today. This afternoon. Once I check in.”

“Thanks for clarifying,” Alex said with a wink. He was just teasing her, she knew, but she felt her hackles rise. She tugged her hand free and waved it in the general direction of downtown.

“Okay, I’m going to….” She trailed off; it wasn’t any of his business what she would do while waiting for Hazel’s return.

Alex nodded good-naturedly. “If you’re hungry, stop in at Juno’s Coffee. Uh, Juniper’s Coffee Bar,” he corrected himself. “She’ll take good care of you. Best coffee in town, too.”

“Um, thank you.” She’d been planning on doing just that, especially since it was right next door to The Cracked Spine. “That’s where I was going for lunch.”

“Great! Tell Miss Juno that Alex says ‘hello’, will you?” He paused, almost like he was trying to decide whether he should say the words on the tip of his tongue. He added, “And don’t mind Ward. He’s a good guy. I can vouch for him. He’s probably just having a bad day.”

Penny snorted and slid into her driver’s seat, rolling her window down so she could say, “Yeah, well, thanks to him, I’m having a bad day now, too.”

Alex nodded, but he didn’t try to assuage her. The muffled sound of hammering started up from somewhere inside the house, and they both turned toward the noise. Alex saluted her with two fingers to his forehead, then launched himself up the front steps and headed inside, the screen door snapping shut behind him with a loud thwack.

This was not how Penny had envisioned her two months of rest and relaxation would begin.