Chapter 9 - Lucy #2
Before we can decide on a course of action, we hear the sound of a key in the lock. The door swings open, and Riley immediately moves to stand in front of me, shielding my naked body with his own.
A short, silver-haired woman steps into the cottage, carrying a wicker basket. She stops abruptly, eyes widening at the sight of a nearly-naked Riley and me scrambling for cover behind him.
I recognize her immediately from her Facebook profile picture—Mrs. Abernathy, my landlady.
She drops the basket in surprise, bread rolls and fruit spilling across the floor. Riley darts forward to help, his face flushed with embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry," I blurt out, wrapping the throw blanket around myself and rushing to assist. "We didn't expect anyone this early."
Mrs. Abernathy's momentary shock gives way to a surprisingly mischievous smile.
"Clearly," she says, eyeing Riley appreciatively as he bends to retrieve an escaped apple. "I haven't seen such a fine-looking man in his underwear since my Harold passed, God rest his soul."
Riley's blush deepens, but he manages a polite nod as he sets the basket on the coffee table.
"I came to check on you," Mrs. Abernathy explains, seemingly unfazed by the awkward situation. "Even brought breakfast. But I see you found... other nourishment."
I want to sink through the floor, but Mrs. Abernathy's light tone and twinkling eyes contain no judgment—only amusement and perhaps a hint of approval.
"You do well to enjoy yourself, dear," she tells me with a wink. "And besides, it's high time Riley here let go of that stubborn loneliness of his and found someone who appreciates him."
Riley clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable being discussed as if he's not present. "Mrs. Abernathy—"
"Oh, hush," she says, waving away his embarrassment. "I've known you since you were in diapers, Riley Carter. Can't shock me. Now, why don't you two get dressed while I make some coffee? Then we can have a proper conversation."
Without waiting for a response, she bustles into the kitchen, leaving Riley and me to exchange bewildered glances.
"Is she always like this?" I whisper as we hurriedly collect our scattered clothing.
"Pretty much," Riley confirms, pulling on his t-shirt. "She's... unique."
We dress quickly, and by the time we make it to the kitchen, Mrs. Abernathy has coffee brewing and is arranging bread rolls on a plate.
"So," she says brightly as we enter, "I take it the power outage brought you two together? How romantic! Just like in those novels I read."
"Mrs. Abernathy," Riley begins, but she cuts him off again.
"Edith, please. If you're sleeping with my tenant, we can be on a first-name basis."
I can't help the laugh that escapes me, partly from nervousness and partly from the situation's absurdity. Riley looks at me, and after a moment, the corner of his mouth twitches upward.
"Coffee?" Edith offers, holding out mugs to each of us.
We accept, and for a few minutes, the kitchen is filled with the sounds of breakfast being assembled and consumed. Once we've eaten, however, I decide to seize the opportunity.
"Edith," I say, "since you're here, there's something we want to ask you. About the town's history."
Her eyes light up. "My favorite subject! What would you like to know?"
I glance at Riley, who nods encouragingly. "It's about the founding families. The Mitchells, specifically. My father was James Mitchell, and I recently found out our family was one of the town's founders."
Edith's expression shifts to one of keen interest. "James Mitchell? You're James's daughter?"
"You knew my father?" I ask, surprised.
"Of course! He grew up just two streets over from me. Such a serious boy, always with his nose in a book. Left town right after high school, didn't he?"
I nod, eager for more information. "What can you tell me about the Mitchell family? And..." I hesitate, then press on, "what happened between them and the Carters?"
Edith's gaze moves between Riley and me, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Well now, isn't that something? A Carter and a Mitchell, together after all these years. Your grandfathers would be turning in their graves."
"Why?" Riley asks, leaning forward. "What happened?"
Edith takes a sip of her coffee, clearly relishing having an audience for her historical knowledge.
"It was 1889. The lumber mill had been running successfully for years, a joint venture between the Carters, who owned the timber rights, and the Mitchells, who ran the mill operations.
The Abernathys—my husband's family—handled the financial side. "
She pauses, making sure she has our full attention. "Then one night, the mill burned down. Completely destroyed. And each family blamed the others."
"Why?" I ask. "Was it not an accident?"
"Some thought it was arson," Edith explains.
"The Carters accused Samuel Mitchell—that would be your great-great-grandfather—of setting the fire for the insurance money.
The Mitchells claimed Jacob Carter—Riley's ancestor—had done it out of jealousy, as Samuel had recently been named president of the town council over him. "
"And the Abernathys?" Riley prompts.
"Stepped in to buy out both families' interests in the rebuilt mill, effectively ending their partnership and their friendship.
" Edith shakes her head sadly. "From that day forward, Carters and Mitchells didn't socialize, didn't do business together, and certainly didn't marry each other.
It was an unwritten rule in Cedar Falls for generations. "
"So that's why my father never talked about his family here," I murmur, pieces falling into place. "He was carrying on a century-old grudge."
"Not exactly," Edith says, surprising me. "Your father was different. He questioned the feud openly in his teens, even befriended young William Carter—Riley's uncle—much to both families' dismay."
Riley's head snaps up. "My uncle Will? The one who died in the car accident?"
Edith nods solemnly. "The very same. James and Will were best friends in high school, inseparable despite their families' objections. Until the accident."
A chill runs through me. "What accident?"
"They were seventeen, out driving on a rainy night like last night.
The car went off Crescent Ridge and plunged into the ravine.
Will died instantly. James was thrown clear and survived with just a broken arm.
" Edith's voice softens. "Two weeks later, James left town. Never came back, as far as I know."
“That’s what he meant when he wrote about 'unfinished business' here." I say.
"Survivor's guilt," Riley says, his expression grim. "He blamed himself for his friend's death and carried that weight for decades."
"Exactly so," Edith confirms. "The town never blamed him—it was a terrible accident, nothing more. But James couldn't forgive himself. And I suspect he couldn't face the Carter family, especially not after how they treated him at the funeral."
"What happened?" I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know.
"Harold Carter—Riley's grandfather—told James he was no longer welcome in Cedar Falls. That no Mitchell would ever be welcome again." Edith sighs. "It was grief talking, of course. Losing a child... it changes people. But those words must have haunted your father."
"And that's why he wanted to return," I realize. "To make peace somehow, before he died."
"I believe so," Edith says gently. "Though whether he would have found that peace, only he would know."
We sit in silence for a moment, absorbing this revelation. Finally, Riley speaks, his voice trembling with emotion.
"So, our families have been at odds for over a century because of a fire that may or may not have been arson and then a tragic accident that no one was to blame for."
"That's the way of feuds," Edith says with a shrug. "They take on a life of their own, long after the original grievances are forgotten."
"Like what happened with Josh," I say softly, reaching for Riley's hand under the table.
He nods, fingers tightening around mine. "History repeating itself."
Edith looks between us, a knowing smile on her face. "Or perhaps history being rewritten," she suggests. "A Carter and a Mitchell, together at last. Quite poetic, don't you think?"
After finishing our coffee and helping Edith clean up, we walk her to the door. She pauses on the threshold, turning to face us.
"The historical society is open today, if you want to look through the archives," she tells me. "There are photographs, newspaper clippings, even some personal letters that might help you understand your father's connection to this place."
"Thank you," I say sincerely. "For everything."
"My pleasure, dear." She pats my arm, then looks at Riley. "And you—don't be a stranger. This cottage could use a man's touch from time to time."
Riley's lips twitch. "Yes, ma'am."
With a final knowing smile, Edith departs, leaving Riley and me alone once more.
"Well," I say after a moment, "that was..."
"Illuminating," Riley finishes for me. "In more ways than one."
I move into his arms, needing the reassurance of his touch after all we've learned. "What do you think? About our families, the feud, all of it?"
He's quiet for a moment, his hand stroking my back in a soothing rhythm. "I think," he says finally, "that we have a chance to break the cycle. To write a different ending to this story."
I look up at him, hope blooming in my chest. "You want that? To continue this—us—whatever we are?"
His amber eyes meet mine, serious but warm. "I do. I know it's fast, maybe crazy, but..." He shakes his head slightly. "I've never felt this way before. Like something that was missing has finally clicked into place."
"I feel it too," I admit, resting my head against his chest. "I came to Cedar Falls looking for answers about my father, but I think I found something I didn't even know I was searching for."
"What happens now?" Riley asks, his voice rumbling beneath my ear.
I smile, feeling more certain than I have in years. "Now we go to the historical society. I want to see those archives and learn more about my father's time here. And then..."
"And then?" he prompts when I trail off.
"And then we figure out the rest together. Day by day." I look up at him again. "I'm not in a hurry to leave Cedar Falls."
His answering smile is like the sun breaking through clouds. "Good," he says simply. "Because I'm not in a hurry for you to go."
As he leans down to kiss me, I feel a sense of rightness wash over me. Whatever brought me to Cedar Falls—fate, coincidence, or my father's unfinished business—I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.