Chapter Four #2
Sure, the stunning view of the frozen lake still gleamed through the oversize living room windows.
Aunt Lois’s beloved romance novels still lined the built-in bookshelves beside the windows.
Last night’s storm had become a bad memory, and the midday sun shining on the fresh snow outside was so brilliant that he had to squint.
But Darby Jane had made a valid point. They wouldn’t last more than an hour or two in a house this cold. And he had no idea how to heat a cabin with only a woodstove.
Charlie, the man who’d met him with the key a few minutes ago, shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his brown Carhartt jacket. He wore a thick red knit beanie, brown heavy-duty pants and winter boots that made him look invincible.
“Yeah, after Mr. Wright passed away last winter, there wasn’t anyone to keep an eye on the place. That’s why your brother hired me, I suppose.”
Surely, he hadn’t heard him correctly. “Who?”
“Mr. Wright. Dennis is his first name.” Charlie gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “He and his wife still own the place down the road, and their family runs the local candy company. We were all pretty bummed when he passed.”
Burke only managed a nod. He didn’t know anything about Dennis Wright, but something told him he was going to learn a whole lot more. Including why Aunt Lois didn’t think enough of the guy to ever let him and his brother play with the Wright girls when they were young.
“Super nice of him to look out for Lois and this place after Mac died, since everybody knows those families have been fighting for years.” Charlie ducked his head. “Sorry, guess you don’t need me telling you stuff you probably already know. But Mr. Wright was a good man.”
But he didn’t know. That was part of the problem. He needed to learn more about his aunt and uncle if he had any hope of getting to the bottom of the feud. Burke gave him a brisk nod. First things first. “What do I need to do to get this place livable?”
Charlie hesitated, then glanced around. “Your family paid me and my sister extra to move a lot of your aunt and uncle’s stuff to the shed out back. Whatever didn’t fit, we just left here.”
Burke swallowed hard. The cabin he remembered had stacks of well-loved books on the end table, cozy blankets draped over the sofa and framed photos on the walls of Mac and Lois’s adventures. Now the place felt vacant. Unloved.
“I’ll show you where we put the key to the shed.
FYI, it’s stuffed to the gills.” Charlie’s gaze slid toward the woodstove.
“The electricity’s been turned on, and I’ll double-check that the water heater is working.
I’ve scheduled a delivery of firewood. That should be here shortly, and I’ve got some old newspaper and kindling in the truck that I’ll carry in.
Heating with a woodburning fire can be tricky, but once you get the hang of it, this place will be nice and toasty. ”
“What if the pipes are frozen?”
Not that he’d ever experienced that in real life. Charleston rarely encountered the kind of weather that led to such plumbing-related disasters.
Charlie winced. “I hope that’s not the case, but in a few minutes, we’ll know for sure.”
Seriously? He’d sent word he was coming.
Couldn’t Charlie have made a little more effort to prepare the place?
Burke swallowed his terse words and followed him down the short hallway off the kitchen to a utility closet.
Charlie opened the door. “Here’s the valve that controls the water supply to the cabin.
Let me turn that on, then we’ll give the faucet in the bathroom a nudge and see what happens. ”
See what happens? Oh, he did not like the sound of that at all.
Charlie cranked the valve mounted in the wall, then turned and clapped Burke on the shoulder. “No worries, man. I know what I’m doing.”
Did he, though? Burke dragged his fingers along his unshaven chin.
Probably best if he didn’t overtly question Charlie’s abilities.
Not if he wanted access to heat and running water anytime soon.
His brother, Shane, had supposedly handled all communications with Charlie.
Which evidently meant sending an occasional text.
Why hadn’t Shane or their mother followed up to make sure Mac and Lois’s property was being properly maintained?
Shane had given him Charlie’s number, but only after Burke had pestered him for a week.
As usual, he was kept on a need-to-know basis when it came to important details regarding the rental property.
His brother seemed to doubt Burke capable of handling anything substantial these days.
An attitude he’d probably adopted from their father.
And their mother was too preoccupied with her whirlwind love affair to care about her older sister’s vacant cabin in rural Alaska.
Whatever. He stepped back to let Charlie do his thing.
“Daddy, do you have a blankie?” Darby Jane sank to the worn shag carpet on the living room floor, cuddling Bobo under her chin.
“We can probably find you a towel or something clean. Want to watch a movie on my computer?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, please.”
“All right. One second.” At least he’d thought far enough ahead to plan for her entertainment. A few minutes later, he had her all set up watching one of her favorite animated movies, nibbling on a cinnamon roll left over from breakfast at the motel, and drinking a bottle of water.
“I’ll be right back with a blanket.” He patted her shoulder then hurried down the hall, pausing when he passed the kitchen.
From the looks of things, they’d remodeled maybe one time in the past thirty years.
The cabinets, countertops and fixtures weren’t anything like the modern spacious kitchen they’d left behind in Charleston.
But wasn’t that sort of the point? A fresh start in a place that resembled a different planet, scrubbed free of any detail that might remind him and Darby Jane of all they’d lost. Although, despite his promises of ice-skating and drinking the best hot cocoa in the world, he was still acutely aware that he’d plucked her out of an exceptionally comfortable lifestyle.
The oversize farmhouse sink with its chipped enamel and a faucet that resembled something out of the 1890s brought back memories of Aunt Lois washing dishes and Uncle Mac standing beside her, smiling as she handed him another pan to dry.
It had been more than twenty years since he’d stood in this kitchen, but that particular memory made it seem like yesterday.
The oven had been a sophisticated model ahead of its time when they had installed it.
If he concentrated, Burke could still taste the sweet concoctions Aunt Lois had baked for him when he visited.
As soon as Charlie confirmed that all the utilities were in working order, he’d find a way to feed himself and his little girl.
“Daddy, I need a blankie,” Darby Jane called out.
“I know, pumpkin. I’m looking.” He continued down the hallway and checked out the three cozy bedrooms. At least there were beds, dressers and nightstands in each room.
The linen closet beside the master bedroom was completely empty, though.
He peeked in the closet in the bedroom that he and Shane had shared.
On the top shelf, a crocheted afghan in shades of blue, purple and green yarn sat neatly folded and wrapped in a clear plastic bag.
Perfect. Burke unzipped the bag, pulled out the afghan, and grimaced at the mothball fragrance that greeted him.
Darby Jane would have something to say about that.
Hopefully, when their household goods arrived in a few weeks, they’d have their familiar blankets and bedding.
Until then, he’d have to encourage her to make do with what was available.
“I’ve found a very special blanket to share with you,” Burke said, as he returned to the nook beside the dining table where Darby Jane had decided to sit on the floor and watch the movie.
She clicked on Pause and eyed him with suspicion. “What is that?”
He held out the crocheted blanket. “It’s called an afghan. It’s handmade. Crocheted by your great aunt Lois. Your uncle Shane and I watched lots of movies with this spread over our legs.”
“But it’s ugly.”
He forced his lips into a smile and draped it over her shoulders. “It will keep you warm until we get the fire started.”
“And it smells,” she wailed, then burst into tears and squirmed away from the blanket. “I hate this place. Please, Daddy, take me home.”
He’d been waiting for that request. It had taken a whole sixteen hours since their plane had landed for her to ask.
That was about twelve hours later than he’d expected.
Deflated, he turned toward the front door as Charlie stepped back inside, stomping the snow off his boots on one of Aunt Lois’s faded entryway rugs.
He carried two small logs, newspapers and some kindling in his arms.
He eyed the sobbing little girl clutching Burke’s legs and plowed on with his update. “I’ll get a fire going, then I’d say this place is move-in ready.”
“Move-in ready. Right.” Burke raised his voice to be heard above the sound of Darby Jane crying. “Thanks for your help.”
“Not a problem.”
Charlie crossed the room and carefully set his supplies down, then got to work crumpling newspaper for the fire.
Burke dropped to his knees and pulled his little girl into his arms. He didn’t bother to offer any uplifting comments about his nostalgic memories in the cabin or empty promises that this would be the best winter of her young life.
Because to be honest, he was really starting to wonder if maybe Shane and Dad were right.
Had he been so blinded by his grief that he’d made another foolish choice, dragging his little girl all the way to Alaska?
* * *