Chapter 3
“L et me stow away these groceries, and I’ll get us some drinks,” Amanda said as she opened the door. “I’ve got pop, seltzer and juice. What do you want?”
“I’ll have a seltzer,” Charlotte said.
“Pop for me,” Lincoln said. He led Charlotte to a couch, sat down with her and reluctantly let go of her hand as Amanda bustled into the kitchen. He gestured to the room around them. “What do you think? Carter and Amanda did a good job, didn’t they?”
While the house was small, it was bright and cozy, the floor plan as open as it could be. Charlotte liked the way the rooms flowed one into the other and all the large windows let in plenty of sunshine.
“It’s a wonderful house. I love the kitchen.” Most of it was visible from where they sat, with a large island separating the two rooms.
Amanda beamed at her as she returned with their drinks. “I do, too. Of course, we eat most of our meals at the town hall with everyone else right now, but I still get to use it when I whip up a snack for just us two. Carter was renovating this house when I moved here. We ended up finishing it together, but he’s the one who designed it and chose most of the materials.”
“He did a terrific job. Both of you did.”
“I never dreamed I could have it so good before I got here.” Amanda sat down in an easy chair across the room.
“Where did you live before?” Charlotte asked.
“LA.” She exchanged a look with Lincoln that he understood. Her story wasn’t a happy one. “I like it much better here.”
“Despite it being a Calamity Year?”
Uh oh , Lincoln thought. He’d hoped Charlotte would ignore Dennis’s ramblings. He hurried to smooth the waters. “Don’t pay attention to Dennis. He’s been on a kick about the Calamity Year all spring. It’s just some story he made up.” He was afraid she’d think Elliott Ridge was dangerous. “We’re perfectly safe up here.”
“Apparently there was a strange year back in 1933 when the mine ran out of silver, before the Elliotts turned their hand to lumber,” Amanda added. “According to Dennis, women kept drifting into town, each one in more trouble than the last.”
“But it’s just a story,” Lincoln said again.
“It’s not like someone is trying to kill you, right?” Amanda joked.
Lincoln sent her an exasperated look, but he knew why she’d asked the question. Amanda’s father had almost managed to do her in when she first came to Elliott Ridge, which is why Dennis was so sure he was right.
Charlotte choked on the sip she’d just taken of her drink. “I sure hope not.”
“Then there’s probably nothing to worry about,” Amanda said.
Lincoln was grateful for the distraction when the front door swung open, but his mood dimmed at seeing Hudson walk in. His brother never passed up the opportunity to hit on a pretty face. What if he scared off Charlotte?
What if he won her over?
Hudson had a history of doing that. The two of them had been inseparable when they were young, but after puberty hit, their companionship had turned into relentless competition. Lincoln was never sure if they had the same taste in women or if Hudson had an uncanny way of guessing which ones he liked—and asking them out first. It happened so often, Lincoln had started to date girls he wasn’t attracted to, hoping against hope Hudson would steer clear. Things came to a head their senior year in high school when Hudson took the competition too far. Now they tolerated each other, but that was about the extent of it.
They’d rarely been in the same place at the same time during the past twelve years, and the separation had smoothed over some of the bad blood between them, but tension tightened in a band around his chest at the thought of Hudson making a play for Charlotte. He wouldn’t step back and play second fiddle to his twin this time.
“Who’s got something to worry about?” Hudson asked. “Are you talking about Dad? Did something happen?”
Charlotte straightened and looked from Lincoln to his brother. He knew she was taking in their similarities. His brother’s tone surprised Lincoln, though. He wasn’t usually one to jump to conclusions like that.
“Nothing’s wrong with Dad,” Lincoln said. “When I dropped him and Mom at the airport, they were both fine.”
“Good.” Hudson nodded. Then he caught sight of Charlotte. “Who’s this?”
Lincoln reluctantly made the introductions, the tightness back in his chest. “Charlotte, this is Hudson, my brother. Hudson, this is Charlotte. Why aren’t you at the mill?” he added, wishing Hudson was anywhere but here.
“Needed to clear my head, so I took a walk. Noticed the lot of you entering Amanda’s house and came to see what was going on.”
“We met Charlotte at the airport,” Amanda said. “She’s looking for a house.”
“Really? That’s good news. We could use more women around here.” Hudson came to shake hands with her. Lincoln noticed he held on a little longer than was necessary, and irritation began to simmer inside him.
“I haven’t seen much of the town yet.” Charlotte pulled her hand away.
“I’ll give you a tour in a minute,” Lincoln assured her.
“Or I could,” Hudson offered. “You should get to the mill, Lincoln. You’re the boss, right? Need to set a good example for the workers.”
“I’m off until after lunch,” Lincoln reminded him. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be running things this morning. Get back to work.”
“Charlotte? What do you think?” Hudson asked her. Lincoln’s irritation increased. Just like he thought; his brother was back to his old tricks.
“Sounds like you have a job to do,” Charlotte said pertly. “Lincoln, I’m ready any time you want to go.” She stood up. “Amanda, do you mind if I use your powder room?”
Lincoln would have laughed at Hudson’s expression if he didn’t think it would start a fistfight, something that didn’t seem appropriate in Amanda’s living room. Hudson wasn’t used to that kind of rebuff.
“Let me show you where it is.” Amanda got to her feet and led the way. Hudson watched their progress. Lincoln could almost see the gears turning in his brain. Nothing moved Hudson from casual interest to real obsession quicker than a woman blowing him off. His twin was halfway smitten with Charlotte now, but Lincoln knew he’d won this round.
“Back off,” he told his brother when the women were gone.
“Hell, no,” Hudson said cheerfully. “Charlotte can choose for herself who she wants to be with.”
“She might not want to be with anyone.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“You’ve got two Elliotts interested in you now,” Amanda said in a low voice when she’d led Charlotte to the back of the house.
“I’m not here to make trouble between brothers,” Charlotte said. She didn’t want any more drama, period. Ivan had provided enough of that.
“Those two compete about everything,” Amanda said. “At least, that’s what Carter says.” She pointed to a door. “Powder room is in there.” She smiled. “I hope you decide to stay. Hudson is right; we do need more women around here.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of the town.” Charlotte slipped into the little room and shut the door, glad to be alone for the moment. Hudson’s arrival had thrown her off balance. His charm offensive reminded her too much of Ivan. The first day she’d met him, Ivan had touched her like that, almost caressing her fingers before he let them go. At the time it had excited her. Now the memory made her shudder.
She faced the mirror and smoothed an errant tendril into her ponytail, wishing for all the makeup and products she’d left behind in Saratoga. Soon she’d find a place to live and start replacing them, but for now her bare face left her looking younger and more vulnerable just when she wanted to project strength and competence.
She supposed she shouldn’t be too hard on Hudson. He was cocky, but he didn’t have the slick edge that Ivan had. She’d gotten good at spotting creeps lately, and she didn’t think Hudson fit that profile. It was interesting to compare the brothers, though. Where Lincoln was clean-shaven, Hudson sported several days’ growth of beard. Where Lincoln walked with purpose, Hudson moved with a kind of swagger. If the two of them were horses, Hudson would be faster out of the gate, but Lincoln would beat him every time through sheer commitment to purpose. Ivan, on the other hand, was the kind of vicious stallion that would bite out the throat of a rival and win the race covered in blood.
Ivan isn’t here , she reminded herself. There was no reason to think he’d be able to track her down, either.
She’d make it clear to Hudson she wasn’t interested… and she’d keep Lincoln at arm’s length, too, despite her attraction to him. If she had to choose between the brothers, she’d choose Lincoln, but right now she needed to put herself first. Find a home, find a job, create safety and security so she’d never be at the mercy of a man’s cruelty again.
She shivered a little at the thought of how much worse it all could have been. What if she’d married Ivan? There’d been a time she would have happily done so.
She freshened up and returned to the living room in time to see Hudson leaving. He paused, halfway out the door. “See you later, Charlotte. You’ll stick around for lunch, right? ”
“We’ll see,” she said firmly. She felt it best to show Hudson, and any other man who came along, that she was a woman who made her own decisions in her own time.
He hesitated a moment longer, then nodded and shut the door behind him.
“Ready for that tour?” Lincoln asked.
“Sure am.” She was determined not to let her worries about Ivan stop her from moving on with her life.
“I’m going to the town hall,” Amanda said. “Come over for lunch when you’re done. We eat together, and the mill workers join us for lunch and dinner,” she explained to Charlotte. “The guys take turns serving breakfast to the family. I handle the other meals.”
“Sounds like you handle everything around here.”
Amanda laughed. “Not really, but I do keep busy. When I get tired of one job, I just move on to the next one. We’ll talk more at lunch. I look forward to hearing which houses you like.”
They parted outside, Amanda walking back toward the Circle, while Charlotte and Lincoln stood at the end of the driveway.
“There are twenty-nine empty houses in Lucy’s Corner,” he said. “We can walk through all of them if you like, but if you know what you’re looking for, we could narrow it down a bit.”
Now they were alone again, she was aware of Lincoln in a visceral way, despite all her determination not to be. To her surprise, she didn’t feel a trace of fear around him. During the first few days after she’d left New York, she’d often found herself looking over her shoulder, afraid Ivan would pursue her, and she’d thought that feeling would color her reaction to any new man she met, but that wasn’t the case with Lincoln.
She liked the shape of his jaw and his intelligent gaze. She didn’t get the feeling he was calculating his return on investment the way Ivan had with every social transaction. She liked the way he watched her, as if interested in everything she had to say. It was going to be hard to keep her head straight around him, but she’d find a way.
As she hesitated, she heard the mill in the distance, the whine of saws transforming logs into lumber. The town was situated in a forest, sunlight coming through high branches. The day was warm, and the air smelled fresh, with a tang of newly cut lumber. Despite her worries, Charlotte relaxed, her shoulders lowering for the first time since she’d left New York.
She knew she should tell Lincoln she couldn’t afford to buy a home yet. Steven had given her enough cash to last a month or two if she watched her pennies, and she would get herself a veterinarian job just as soon as she could, but even with the small inheritance she would receive, she doubted she could get a mortgage until she was more established in the community.
She opened her mouth to ask to see some of the rental houses, then closed it again. She was curious about these empty houses for sale. A girl could dream, couldn’t she? After they toured a couple, she could let Lincoln know a rental was probably a better fit .
What did she want in a house?
“Front porch or no front porch?” Lincoln prompted.
“Definitely a front porch.” As long as she was dreaming, why not ask for the best? Ivan had owned a mansion in Saratoga, but rather than choosing one of the town’s wonderful old Victorians, he’d had a new monstrosity built for himself. She’d never felt at home in it.
“One story or two?”
“Two, I think.” There was something mesmerizing about having this man’s attention focused on her. Lincoln’s eyes were the most stunning shade of brown. He stood with feet planted wide, his hands on his hips. They were large and square, and dwarfed hers, making her feel dainty.
She didn’t often feel that way. Working with horses day in, day out left her fit and sure on her feet. She had always been sporty and couldn’t remember anyone ever describing her as delicate. Ivan, only an inch or two taller than her, had dominated her with his will, his anger and his wallet. If Lincoln tried to dominate anyone, it would be through his size and calm self-assurance, but she didn’t think he’d ever try that with a woman. Amanda was far too relaxed around him for Lincoln to be that kind of man.
“Okay. What about inside? Anything special you want?” he asked.
“Um… a good bathtub? Something I can soak in?” It was one of her little luxuries. She loved to light candles, put on some music, pour a glass of wine and relax at the end of a trying day. “And a lot of windows. I like to feel I can see outside.”
“I know a couple of places that fit that bill.” He held out his hand, and Charlotte found herself taking it again. His large fingers wrapped around hers reassured her and brought to life a longing inside her she’d told herself she’d long ago left behind. Boundaries, she reminded herself. She needed to set boundaries with Lincoln.
And she would—later.
For now, she allowed her hand to remain in his, telling herself it was the last time she’d do so. She liked walking beside him, matching her stride to his, aware of Lincoln as a man, not just as a person. She’d forgotten how delicious raw attraction could be. These last few months she’d thought she’d never feel desire again.
Lincoln led the way to a little blue house with a sharp roofline. It had a generous front porch and a solid wooden door that creaked when he opened it. Inside, it was a little musty from being shut up a long time, but the kitchen had been gutted and the walls prepped with primer.
“I like this one because the living room is so big,” Lincoln said. “It’s got decent bathrooms, too.” He took her inside and showed her around. “The windows probably need to be replaced, but it’s a good space, right?”
Charlotte nodded.
Behind the living room was a small room he said had been used as an office but could also be a bedroom. On the other side of the house, he showed her a sunny kitchen, a laundry room and a good-size bathroom. Upstairs they found two bedrooms and a bathroom that was nearly as large. It had a serviceable, but not terribly exciting, bathtub in it.
“We could swap out this tub for something better. Add a separate shower stall.”
She nodded slowly. “That might work.” She was caught up in the possibilities, but she was mindful that owning a house like this was only a daydream for now.
“Let me show you the backyard.” It was fenced, with a small outbuilding that might originally have been a shed but had been spiffed up. “I think you’d call this a she-shed these days,” Lincoln told her, “but when we were kids, it was Emma Crawley’s studio. She was a painter. A passably good one.”
“It’s a nice space. Not sure what I’d use it for.”
“Could be anything you want. Maybe a home office?”
“I guess.” She thought that over and discarded the notion. She didn’t like taking work home with her. “I like this house…”
“But…?” Lincoln prompted. “It’s missing something?”
“A screened-in porch. I’ve always loved them.” She knew she was wasting Lincoln’s time, but she couldn’t bring herself to suggest they look at a rental yet.
One more house , she thought. Just for fun.
He chuckled. “Amanda’s right. You probably would like number37. Let’s take a look at it.”
Let go of his hand , Charlotte told herself when he turned to head back inside. Let. Go. Of. His. Hand.
Her fingers refused to comply. Instead, her imagination conjured up images of renovating one of these houses with Lincoln. Working hard and getting a little sweaty. Their hands touching when they maneuvered a board into place. Getting backed into a tight corner. Lincoln tossing away his hammer and bending close to give her a kiss.
Stop it , she told herself. Had she learned nothing during her time with Ivan?
Charlotte gave herself a talking to as she and Lincoln cut through the house and out to the street, then wandered over a block or so to another house. She was midtirade about responsibility, learning from your mistakes and cultivating patience when Lincoln stopped in front of a stately gray house. It wasn’t large, but it knew its place in the world, Charlotte thought, a structure that held its head up high. Her heart gave a little throb. She already knew she wanted this house.
As she looked it over, Lincoln stood close, holding her hand firmly but lightly, his shoulder barely an inch from hers. An outsider might think they were a couple already, and Charlotte had to stop herself from leaning against him. Somehow it didn’t seem like it would be strange to do so. It was as if they’d already known each other a long time, like they’d been friends growing up and now were turning into more.
What would it be like if Lincoln was her man? Was he fun and playful? Serious and romantic? She already knew she wanted him.
Stop. It.
Charlotte would be mortified if Lincoln could hear the argument raging inside her head, but he seemed oblivious to it. Maybe he held everyone’s hand when he showed them the houses.
She forced herself to focus. It was time to tell Lincoln she couldn’t afford a house like this. Not yet, anyway. Before she could open her mouth, Lincoln tugged her up the seven steps to the porch, which ran the length of number37. The door was painted black and had three small windows cut into it. Lincoln ushered her inside. She missed his hand encasing hers, but the press of his fingers at the small of her back was some consolation.
“This isn’t one of the homes I cleaned out,” he told her. “This one is in Hudson’s section. It’s got a good tub, though.”
Charlotte liked it immediately. The stately living room to her right had large windows up front and two leaded ones high in the side wall that gave the room charm. Toward the back of the house, built-in corner display cabinets and a low-hanging light fixture suggested the dining table was meant to be positioned there. A door led to a large, screened-in porch at the side of the house, perfectly positioned to catch the breeze if she wasn’t mistaken. Around the corner from the dining room was an open-plan kitchen with tons of cabinets and a large peninsula workspace.
An archway led from the kitchen to a family room on the other side of the house.
“These floors are real hardwood,” Lincoln said. “We could easily sand and refinish them.”
Charlotte could see the possibilities. She would have to price everything and make sensible decisions if she ever bought a place like this.
First she needed to find a job.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Lincoln said.
Her blood leaped in her veins at the suggestion, but she quickly realized he only wanted to show her the rest of the house. She gave herself another stern lecture as they climbed to the second story.
“Three bedrooms,” Lincoln announced when they reached the top. “And two bathrooms.” The one off the hall had a tub-shower combination, sink and toilet. The second was en suite to the largest of the bedrooms.
Charlotte peeked in. “Oh, look at that!” Past a dated vanity and toilet, an enormous old claw-foot tub reigned supreme next to the far wall. She and Lincoln crowded into the small room together.
“Hudson should have pulled out that linoleum.” Lincoln gestured to the floor. “We can refinish the tub if it needs it. You don’t mind taking on a project, do you? This house could be something special if we fixed it up.”
“We?” she repeated. She hoped he hadn’t somehow intuited her fantasies about renovating a house with him. She really needed to come clean about her financial situation .
“I’ll help—after work and on weekends,” he said. “That’s part of the deal.”
“It is?”
He nodded. “Like I said, we need more women in town, so I’ll do what it takes to get you to settle here.”
“Including home renovations?” That seemed drastic.
“Among other things.” Lincoln paused, shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face as if to wipe off the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hell. That didn’t come out right. Sounded downright creepy.”
“It kind of did,” she admitted with a laugh.
“Won’t happen again.”
She nodded, but he didn’t have to worry. She’d already decided he was the furthest thing from a creep, which made him far more dangerous in a different way. He could steal her heart if he wanted to.
“Do you know much about renovations?” Charlotte asked, buying more time before she burst the bubble of the rosy scenario he’d been outlining for her.
“I’m a pretty capable guy.”
“I can believe it.”
His smile grew wider, and Charlotte gave up pretending she wasn’t flirting with him. It was too late. She was hooked.
“How much is the house?” she asked, wanting to know if she could ever afford a place like this here on the Ridge.
He thought a moment, nodded as if he’d come to a decision and held her gaze with his. A shiver traced down her spine at the feral interest she saw there. Someday soon he was going to kiss her, and it was going to feel good.
“You remember Amanda mentioned we have a newcomer deal going on right now?”
“Um-hmm.” Would he be willing to hold the house for her for a few months until her inheritance came through? It might be just enough for a down payment. If she could quickly find work, maybe she could convince a bank to take a chance on her after all.
“We’re not advertising this for obvious reasons, but we’re selling houses for a dollar to the first few takers. Just to get our community going.”
“A dollar?” Surely she hadn’t heard him right. The absurdity of it took her breath away.
She could afford a dollar.
“Plus the cost of renovations, but it’s up to you how much you take on and how fast you get to them. We’re starting from scratch,” he added with a shrug. “Not many people want to take a chance and move to an empty town, and I don’t blame them. If a community can’t reach a certain population, it stagnates. We don’t have any guarantees that we’re going to succeed in resurrecting it, but you can be sure I’ll do my best. We all will.”
She supposed that made sense. Kind of. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch, other than the cost of those renovations,” he said. “We’re looking for people who are ready to settle down in Elliott Ridge, so if you’re thinking about turning around and selling out for a profit, I’d rather you told me right now.”
“That’s not my intention,” she said truthfully.
“Good. This place was special when I was growing up, and I believe it can be that way again.”
“I’m interested.” She cut off his next words. He didn’t have to sell her on Elliott Ridge, because she was already sold on this empty little town in its sweet-smelling pine forest. She was interested in Amanda’s enthusiasm, Dennis’s doomsaying and the Elliott brothers’ ambitions. She was damn interested in Lincoln and the chance to have a normal, healthy relationship with a normal, healthy man. “I’d like to take the newcomer deal,” she clarified. “But I don’t understand how you can afford to offer it to me.”
“It’s more like we can’t afford not to,” Lincoln said. “We need to prime the pump. Get a few people like you to buy in and populate the town, so it doesn’t seem so empty when other people come looking to purchase houses here. Do you have enough money to fix up a house?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said slowly. “But not all at once.” Her inheritance would help her get started, but she didn’t have a job yet. If she couldn’t find one, she’d be in trouble.
“That’s all right. We can do it a bit at a time.” He thought it over. “We serve meals in the town hall, so you won’t have to do the kitchen right away, and this house’s plumbing and wiring is sound—all of it was upgraded in the nineties. We’ll tackle the bathrooms first, then refinish your floors and paint the walls throughout. You can do the kitchen at the end. Should work out just fine. Like I said, I’ll help with labor.”
“I’ll do as much as I can myself.” She was used to working hard, after all. She hadn’t done much carpentry, but she was sure she could learn. She was sure she’d be able to find work, too, sooner or later.
He leaned against the tiled bathroom counter and looked down for a moment. When he looked up again, his expression was serious.
“There’s just one thing,” he said, and she sucked in a breath, bracing herself for what he’d say next. Of course there was a gotcha. This whole scenario was too good to be true.
“What’s that?”
“I need to be honest with you. I think I owe you that.”
“Okay. Now you’re scaring me,” she admitted.
He smiled again, but it was wistful this time, and Charlotte stilled at the way her heart sped up.
“You’re my type,” Lincoln said. “I’m having some feelings for you I probably shouldn’t be having for a woman I met only a couple of hours ago. I want you to stay, but it’s only fair to warn you that if you do, I’ll likely make a play for you sooner or later.” He shook his head. “I didn’t have meeting you in my plans for this year, but that can’t be helped. I think I’m going to have to rearrange those plans a little now you’re here.”
His admission both disarmed her and sent a thrill through her veins. She was beginning to think she might have to rearrange a few plans of her own. She didn’t say that out loud, though.
“What if I shoot you down?” That was a far more sensible response.
Lincoln winced. “I’ll survive. But, woman, I swear if you fall for Hudson, I’ll be more than a little twisted up.”
Charlotte laughed despite all the feelings swirling inside her. “Hudson’s not my style,” she reassured him.
“Then you’d be a first.” His smile reached his eyes, and she found it hard to breathe. Lincoln was her type. How could she ever have thought Ivan was?
“I won’t fall for him,” she promised Lincoln truthfully.
“Good.”
“Do you want to see any more houses?” Lincoln asked Charlotte when things began to feel a little awkward. He was suddenly aware of how quiet it was in this empty house. He wanted to take her hand again, anything to keep the connection going between them, but he figured he’d pressed his luck enough for one day.
He told himself it didn’t matter that he was taking such a wild leap with his heart—and with his pocketbook. He’d intended to pass his savings over to the family coffers anyway, as part of his contribution to paying off their debts. By purchasing number37 for market value, he’d still be handing his savings over to the family—he’d just get a house in return for his trouble. Which he’d then sell to Charlotte for a dollar.
He knew someday, if things worked out between them, he would have to set Charlotte straight about how the newcomer deal actually worked. After all, Carter had confessed to Amanda before they’d married that he’d tricked her and paid for her house himself. If a miracle happened and he married Charlotte someday, he’d do the same. If things didn’t pan out, it didn’t really matter. One way or another he was going to give that money to his family.
He was going to marry her, though.
He couldn’t explain how he knew it. He just did, which admittedly made little sense. He’d met pretty women before. Smart ones, too. Ambitious ones. Hardworking ones. Sweet ones.
If someone asked what made him certain about Charlotte, what could he say? She tugged on her ponytail, and I knew she was the one? It was too—dumb.
“I guess I could see more houses,” Charlotte said, interrupting his train of thought. “It’s going to be hard to top this one, though.”
“Let’s check out a few more just so you’re sure.”
“Okay.” She turned to go but crouched down suddenly and reached behind the open bathroom door. When she stood again, she held a tiny pewter horse figurine in her palm. “Looks like the house’s former owners left this behind by accident. Do you know who they were?”
“The Petersons. I think they moved to Memphis. They never owned this house, though, only rented it. Elliott Ridge was always a company town, which means the Elliotts owned the houses, and the workers rented them from us.”
“Got it. You should track them down and see if they want this back. Someone might have loved it.”
“I guess I can do that.” He put the horse in his pocket and gestured for her to go ahead of him down the stairs. Outside, they walked from house to house until they’d toured about ten of them that met Charlotte’s basic criteria.
“Want to see any more?” he asked after they toured a yellow house with four bedrooms.
She shook her head. “I really like the gray one. Number37.”
“I like that one, too.” He checked his phone. “It’s time for lunch, but afterward, we can make a list of renovations and start assigning costs to them, so you can choose what order to do them in.”
“What about paperwork? I have to buy the house first, don’t I?”
Only then did Lincoln realize he’d glossed over a detail or two about their situation he really needed to clarify. “Let’s go eat and talk things over with my brothers. We’ll get it all worked out.”
“What about my reservation at the Evergreen Motel? Do you think I should cancel it?”
He nodded. “We’ll set you up with a bed in your new place for now. No need to spend a fortune on a motel room when you have a house of your own.”
“A house of my own,” Charlotte repeated. “I like the sound of that.” She took out her phone. “I’m not getting service here.”
“Use mine.” Lincoln pulled out his own, tapped in his code and gave it to her. Charlotte quickly made the call and gave it back.
As they strolled to the town hall, Lincoln’s fingers itched to reach out and take her hand again, but he restrained himself. All in good time. Once she’d settled in, he’d start small. Help her with some renovations. Drive her into town to do some errands. Help her find a vehicle of her own when she was ready. Then ask her out for a real date.
Inside, lunch smelled good, but before taking her into the cafeteria, he opened a door to the left.
“Here’s the library Amanda was telling you about. She cleaned it up and rearranged it. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s a lot better than it was when we got here.” Tall windows allowed light to stream into the large room. Rows of shelves held books, magazines, DVDs and anything else that had been left here over the years. There was even a collection of records.
“Those windows are amazing.” Charlotte brightened and stepped into the large room to get a better look. “And there are window seats, too. You’ll never get me to leave once I curl up on one of them with a good book.”
She joined him in the entryway again, and Lincoln shut the door behind them. “It was Mom’s pet project. People had been leaving books here for decades in an informal way, but she was the one who brought in the shelves, organized the books and set up a system to track them. Our mailboxes are over there. We’ll get you assigned one.” He pointed to a wall of them. “Here’s where we eat.” He led the way into a large cafeteria. A half-dozen tables had been set up near a pass-through window to an industrial kitchen. His brothers and most of the mill workers sat around them. As soon as the men noticed Charlotte, they turned to look with interest.
“Hey, everyone,” Lincoln called out. “This is Charlotte. She’s looking to settle here at Elliott Ridge, so be nice to her.”
There was a chorus of greetings, and Charlotte gave a little wave. Lincoln brought her to the table where his brothers had gathered. He caught some of the mill workers checking out Charlotte and moved closer to her, gesturing to a seat by Carter. He wasn’t too worried that anyone would make a move on her, though. Most of these men would be here for only another week or so. He and his brothers were in the process of hiring permanent employees now they’d proved to themselves they could get contracts for their lumber.
Carter greeted her with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte. Amanda has been telling me about you. I’m Carter Elliott.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Charlotte said.
“You’ve already met Hudson,” Lincoln said, taking up the introductions. “This is Nate, and that’s Gage.”
“Hi,” Charlotte said.
“Food is ready,” Amanda called from the kitchen. The men surged to their feet and moved to form a ragged line near the pass-through window. Lincoln and Charlotte followed them. Amanda served people one by one, and they carried their trays back to their seats.
“We have industrial dishwashers back there that make cleanup relatively easy,” Lincoln told Charlotte. “Eating all together like this has been a good system so far. This current crop of mill workers are temporary, and they’re staying in barracks by the mill. The kitchens there are rudimentary.”
Charlotte nodded as they sat down.
“Charlotte would like to buy number37. The old Peterson place,” Lincoln announced when his brothers had taken their seats and begun to eat. He waited until they looked his way, then casually splayed the fingers of his right hand on the table and brought them together again.
His brothers straightened. They knew that sign and its implications. It was part of the secret language Nate had developed when they were kids. This particular gesture meant shut up and listen—and go along with whatever I say . It had played an important part in their childhood when they’d all been apt to get into trouble and frequently needed each other to back up their alibis.
Luckily Charlotte missed the gesture.
“Charlotte’s going to take advantage of the newcomer deal,” he said clearly. Understanding dawned in his brothers’ eyes. After all, Carter had pulled this same maneuver not too long ago. “I hope that’s okay with all of you.”
Carter looked down to hide a smile. Hudson considered him with a narrow-eyed gaze. Nate shrugged, but Gage shook his head and sat back in his chair. Lincoln knew he still wasn’t convinced they could really make their town successful again.
“You explained all the rules?” Nate asked.
“Not yet,” Lincoln admitted. “Do you want to take a stab at it?”
“If you want me to.” He turned to Charlotte. “The main thing is that we’re all here on sufferance.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, her fork poised over her salad.
“Our parents still own Elliott Ridge,” Carter said.
“And there’s an offer on the table should they decide to sell the property.” Gage spoke up from the head of the table. Lincoln squashed an urge to interrupt him. Charlotte ought to know everything about the situation, including that Gage was here reluctantly.
“Hey, I’m the one who’s supposed to be explaining,” Nate said. He waited for the others to go back to their meals. “Carter is right—our parents still own the Ridge. Gage is right, too—they’ve received an offer for the entire property. A good one. None of us wants to sell, but we’re carrying some old debts, including a balloon payment due next June that’s going to be a big stretch for us to make. We just got permission to subdivide part of the property, which is why you’re able to buy house number37. We’ll use the proceeds from the sale of the houses and the money we make from our lumber and logging operations to keep up with the monthly debt payments and to cover the balloon payment next June. If we don’t manage to pay it off, my parents will need to sell the whole town. If that happens, you could find yourself living beside a luxury golf course.”
“Huh,” Charlotte said. She put her fork down, salad untouched.
“But you’d be out only a dollar—plus the cost of your renovations,” Lincoln reminded her. “And if the worst happens, you’ll almost certainly be able to sell your property to the buyer for a very tidy profit. Blake Warrington has made it clear he wants to own the entire Ridge. Besides, you don’t have to worry about that scenario. We’re going to pay those debts and then the five of us will inherit the town. The place should be bustling by then.”
“Cheers to that.” Nate lifted his drink, and the others did, too, although Hudson still seemed peeved and Gage reluctant. They clinked their glasses together.
“To Elliott Ridge,” Carter said.
“To Elliott Ridge.”
Could she really buy a house for a dollar and settle here?
Charlotte couldn’t believe how quickly her life had changed in one short week. Nor could she believe she was considering buying into a community she hadn’t even heard of until a few hours ago.
She finished her salad and tackled her enchilada, which was surprisingly good, letting the flow of the conversation swirl around her. Lincoln and his brothers chatted about meeting an upcoming deadline for a lumber delivery. Amanda, done serving for the moment, came to sit with them. She jotted down menu ideas while she ate. The mill workers at the other tables were a boisterous bunch. Charlotte was aware she was receiving attention from some of them, but she kept her gaze on her plate.
Where would she go if she didn’t settle here? That was a better question.
Charlotte couldn’t imagine finding a house for a dollar anywhere else, and so far, Lincoln’s family seemed like reasonable people. Amanda’s presence on the Ridge reassured her. She hadn’t seen anyone resembling Lincoln’s description of Carolyn Snyder, but when she asked, he told her Carolyn often volunteered in Chance Creek and was gone most of the day.
But to buy a house—even for a dollar? That meant making a commitment, which was terrifying after the disaster her last one turned out to be.
She glanced up to find Lincoln watching her.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
“So far, so good,” she managed to answer him. “I’d like to look around more after lunch, though, to get a better idea of what it would be like to live here.”
“I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“I hope those are good walking shoes.” Amanda leaned around Carter to talk to her. “It really is a grand tour if you want to see the whole place.”
“I’ve walked miles in these,” Charlotte assured her. She’d kept busy at the stables. When she’d first met Ivan, Peter Illych had been his on-site veterinarian. It had stunned Charlotte to realize someone could be so wealthy that he could keep staff like that on retainer, but Ivan had grooms, jockeys and more in his employ at the stables and a whole army of people to run his home and many businesses.
Hudson set down his fork and glared at Lincoln. “You blew off work this morning, and now you’re going to take the afternoon off, as well? What kind of a foreman are you?”
“The kind who’s got a potential customer to show around,” Lincoln said. “I’ll be only an hour or two.”
“I can entertain myself this afternoon,” Charlotte hurried to say to him. “You can show me around after work.” She wrinkled her nose. “But it’s the weekend. Why are you working at all?”
“For the moment, we’re working every day,” Hudson said. “Got bills to pay. Right, Lincoln?”
Gage looked up. Took in the tension between his brothers. “Grow up, Hudson. Any of us can run the mill for the afternoon. Of course Lincoln needs to show Charlotte around.”
“I could show her.”
“Seems like Lincoln’s got things in hand,” Gage said mildly.
Amanda leaned forward again, caught Charlotte’s eye and smiled, cutting a glance toward Lincoln and raising her brows suggestively. Charlotte realized Amanda hadn’t offered to take her around, even though she was the only one who didn’t work at the mill. Was she deliberately trying to throw the two of them together ?
Charlotte bit back a smile of her own, suddenly seeing the humor in the situation. Hudson was trying to start trouble because she’d turned him down earlier, but Gage had saved the day for Lincoln.
She was glad of that. She was looking forward to spending part of the afternoon with him.
“I appreciate you taking the time,” she told Lincoln.
“My pleasure.” Lincoln sat back and smiled at her.
Across from him, Hudson tapped his finger on the table a few times, clearly irritated.
“Language!” Amanda snapped, then bit her lip, sinking down in her seat as everyone else at the table turned to her. “Whoops.”
Charlotte didn’t know what she’d missed. No one had said anything remotely offensive.
“Are you serious?” Hudson asked Carter. “You taught her—”
“Time to get back to work.” Gage stood up, scraping his chair over the floor. After a second’s hesitation, Nate and Hudson stood up, too. They took their plates to the kitchen. Charlotte still didn’t know what was going on.
“Sorry,” Amanda said to Carter as she gathered her dishes.
“Don’t worry about it,” Carter said, giving his wife a hug before following the others.
Charlotte took her last bite of enchilada, pushed her plate away and turned over the sequence of events in her mind. What had just happened? Had she missed something significant?
“You ready?” Lincoln asked.
“I guess.” She was still mulling things over when they took their dishes to the counter and left the cafeteria.
“What was that all about?” she asked as they made their way outside. She wasn’t going to pretend something strange hadn’t happened.
“We’re brothers. We have a way of making each other understand what we’re thinking,” Lincoln said. “Hudson was pissed you didn’t pick him to be your tour guide. I knew he was cussing me out silently. Guess Amanda has been around long enough to know it, too.”
“You think Amanda read his mind?”
Lincoln shrugged. “Not too hard once you know the guy.”
Charlotte let it go as they made their way toward a paddock that contained three fine specimens of horseflesh—none of them bred for racing. All of them looked healthy, though. No work for a veterinarian at the present.
“Those two are mine.” Lincoln pointed out a chestnut stallion and a bay mare, both American quarter horses. “Colonel and Thorn. The other one is Nate’s.” He pointed to a dun gelding she suspected was an Appaloosa. “His name is Eagle. We’ll be acquiring more of them soon. We all like to ride.” He cocked his head. “You said you always wanted your own horse. There’s plenty of room in the stables if you still want one.”
“I’ll think about that.” Though she’d taken riding lessons for years, she’d never had a horse of her own, even after she’d left school and become a veterinarian. The horses in Ivan’s extensive stables were of the highest quality, but they weren’t all thoroughbreds. He maintained a social schedule worthy of a man of his wealth and provided mounts for any of his guests who desired one, including her—at least at first. Later, he made sure she didn’t have time to ride. Keeping her working day and night was another way he controlled her.
Charlotte patted Colonel’s neck. He was inquisitive, whereas Thorn held back. When Eagle pushed his muzzle close, she stroked him, too.
“Want to ride?” He nodded toward the horses.
“I’d love to.”
Lincoln saddled the horses, and Charlotte was thrilled to mount Thorn and take the reins in hand. They followed the road that curved first along the lake before turning inland and swooping in switchbacks up the steep slope. The air smelled good here, and she couldn’t think of where she’d rather be. Certainly not back at Gasparyn Stables.
Charlotte felt a pang for all the horses she’d left behind there, though. She wished she was wealthy enough to buy them and let them loose on a ranch where they could run at will rather than at the direction of a man whose sole concern was the money they could earn him. It pained her now to think how naive she’d been when she’d loved the races. Back then all she’d seen was the horses’ pluck and the jockeys’ daring. She hadn’t realized the price both paid for the audience’s entertainment and the owners’ pocketbooks.
Three-quarters of the way up the Ridge, the road opened into a clearing.
“That’s the entrance to the mine.” Lincoln pointed it out. “Stay away from it. It’s blocked, but it’s still not a place to mess around in. Those buildings, too.” He shook his head as he pointed to three outbuildings slumping beside the mine. “They’re in bad shape. As soon as we can, we’ll take them down. They’re a menace.”
“I’ll keep clear of them,” Charlotte assured him.
“Let’s go to the mill next.” He urged his horse toward a narrow path that cut straight back down the Ridge. Charlotte was grateful for her horse’s careful steps a time or two as they made their way down the steep terrain. Eventually, they found themselves passing between houses, coming out onto pavement again. “My parents’ house—number1—was the first house built on the Ridge, but these cabins are the next oldest,” Lincoln said, gesturing to the nearest buildings. “They housed the first workers who came to mine the silver.”
Charlotte surveyed the row of log cabins, small, square homes that could contain only a room or two.
“Bachelor quarters,” Lincoln said. “They’re pretty rough.”
Next came timber-frame homes that were only slightly bigger. Soon Charlotte spotted the back of the town hall, where they’d eaten lunch. When they reached the Circle, they followed it to Center Street, turned and walked past Lucy’s Corner, deeper into the woods.
A quarter mile away, the road widened, and the sound of machinery and men’s voices filled the air. A large, rectangular building dominated the scene, surrounded by tall piles of logs. Several enormous trucks were parked nearby, ready to haul them but empty for now.
“This is the sorting yard,” Lincoln said, bringing his horse to a halt. “The actual work goes on inside that building. You’ll want to mostly stay away from here, too,” he added, “but the mill is the lifeblood of our community.”
“It’s impressive,” Charlotte said.
“There’s a lot of room for improvement in our systems. We modernized most of our equipment just before the shutdown, but I wish we’d done the whole line. We’ve got a couple of pieces that are about to fall apart.” Lincoln shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the mill like it was a puzzle to be solved, and she wished she could help him. If you already owed money, the last thing you wanted to do was spend more, but Lincoln struck her as the kind of man who wanted to solve problems immediately. It must be killing him to have to wait.
“You’re the boss?”
“For now. Dad should be in charge, but he’s having hip replacement surgery in two days. Not sure how long it’ll take before he’s on his feet again.”
“A couple of months. My grandmother went through it some years back,” she explained when he raised an eyebrow. She wished she could smooth away the worry in his face, but she didn’t know him well enough to touch him like that.
“Before the crash, when my dad started struggling with health issues, Gage stepped in to run the mill because he was the oldest. Then the foreman of the logging operation took another job and moved away. I think he saw the writing on the wall before the rest of us did. Gage switched over to that job. That’s when I took charge of the mill.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for someone so young.”
“We all did what we had to do.” Lincoln’s shoulders were tense, as if the conversation was bringing up unhappy memories.
“Gage doesn’t want to run the mill this time around? Or is he in charge of the logging operation again?”
Lincoln shifted his stance. “He doesn’t want to be in charge of either. He wasn’t as excited as the rest of us to come back here.”
“He wanted to settle somewhere else?” Charlotte shoved her hands in her pockets, too, then noticed she’d mimicked Lincoln and pulled them out.
“It’s not that. He loves it here just as much as the rest of us do, I think. It’s more like—once burned, twice shy. Know what I mean? He took it hard when we had to leave. He’s worried we can’t make a go of it.” Lincoln seemed to remember he was supposed to be selling her on the place. “He’s wrong, though. We’ll get it up and running again. The crash was a fluke.”
“Workers are happiest when they know who the boss is.” She thought of the way Ivan had constantly ignored her advice and treatment plans for his horses, and how everyone who worked at the stables quickly followed his lead. She’d been hard-pressed to make anyone take her seriously. “Hudson is right; you shouldn’t stay away from the mill too long.” She pressed her lips together. Who was she to give career advice to anyone?
“I won’t.”
They gave the men working in the lumberyard a large berth as Lincoln led the way around the building to the back. “This is the graveyard.”
“Graveyard?” As far as Charlotte could tell it was a dumping ground for broken machinery.
“Looks like an eyesore,” Lincoln said, “but it’s actually more like a storehouse. I’m good at fixing things. My dad used to go to auctions and buy machinery that bigger companies were getting rid of. He’d bring it home for me to fix and then we’d get years more use out of them. Couldn’t afford the brand-new versions. This is storage for spare parts.”
“Ah. That makes sense.” She supposed it was good to reuse things that way, although she was grateful this wasn’t the view from her new house.
“Someday I’ll show you what I mean,” he said. “You might find it more interesting than you think.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” She wasn’t teasing him, although she had a feeling he thought she was. She looked forward to learning all there was to know about Elliott Ridge—and Lincoln. Would this town prove to be a friendly community? Or did its peaceful surface hide depths of treachery, like Gasparyn Stables did in the end? She shouldn’t get too attached to the place until she knew for sure. She could always walk away from a dollar investment, but once she’d started the renovations, it would be harder to leave.
She glanced at Lincoln. She had a feeling it would be hard to leave him, too.