Chapter 4 #2
The hostess was busy seating a couple near the back, so Emma and Abbie lingered near the small counter topped with a register and a basket of laminated menus.
To their right, a long bar stretched the length of the room, its surface scarred with years of use.
A man in a weathered flannel shirt and a baseball cap hunched over a pint of beer, his beefy hand clenched in a fist on the bar.
He flicked a glance toward the television mounted overhead, where a local news segment played.
The headline scrolling across the screen read: Carlisle Place Draws Controversy over Sea Lion Habitat.
The man snorted, lifting his glass. “Carlisle house is a lost cause,” he muttered to the bartender. “Should let the sea lions keep it. At least they ain’t runnin’ off in the middle of the night leavin’ folks high and dry.”
Oh no. Heat singed Emma’s cheeks. She turned toward the door. “Maybe we should go.”
Abbie tugged on her sleeve. “Ignore him. He’s always running his mouth.”
The bartender, a petite woman with silver-streaked hair pulled into a braid, shot the man a warning look. “Watch what you say, Joe.”
But Joe wasn’t paying attention. He slid his beer closer. “Whole town got burned by that family once. No reason to think this time’s any different.”
Emma swallowed hard, her pulse thrumming. She forced her expression into something neutral as the hostess finally returned, then reached for two menus.
“Right this way,” she said with a bright smile.
Abbie gave Emma a gentle nudge, and she followed her friend through the crowded dining area to a booth near the window.
Emma sat down, forcing herself to exhale. “Nice to know I still have fans around here.”
Abbie winced. “Like I said, ignore him. Joe’s bitter about a lot of things that have nothing to do with you.”
Emma pressed her lips together, staring at the menu without really reading it. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”
Abbie leaned forward, her voice softer now. “Or maybe it just means you’ve got unfinished business here.”
Emma didn’t answer. Instead, she traced a finger over the edge of the laminated menu and tried to choose something to order.
Abbie leaned forward. “So, your old house…those sea lions…What are you going to do?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s a problem.”
“More than a problem, friend. They’re federally protected. It’s not going to be easy to shoo them away. Best-case scenario, you prove that you’re actively using the property, and even then, it’ll take permits, wildlife inspections, and time.”
Emma groaned. “So I’m up a creek without a paddle?”
“I’m just saying it won’t be easy.”
Emma flipped the menu over, scanning the back side. “Well, I have to try. My mom hasn’t paid the property taxes, so I want to make things right.”
Abbie’s expression softened. “I’m sorry that she’s made this your problem.”
Before she could remind Abbie that her mother was the queen of shirking responsibility, her phone buzzed inside her purse. Probably Nathan. She left it unanswered.
Abbie set her menu down. “You know, there’s been two or three families who’ve rented the house over the years. Some people think they stole stuff when they moved out, and not everything was accounted for.”
Emma huffed out a laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t know. Mom and I only took two bags with us. We moved in with an elderly aunt in Connecticut, and then I was shipped off to boarding school. I don’t speak to my ex-stepfather, and my dad’s still in prison, at least for a few more years.”
Abbie’s eyes widened. “So those rumors are true. I’m really sorry, Emma. It sounds horrific. And even though it’s been eighteen years…”
Emma swallowed hard. “You never really get over it.”
“Well, just so you know, folks around here think there’s more to your old house than feisty sea lions.”
A knot tightened in Emma’s stomach. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Abbie meant.
But given the way the guy at the bar had reacted to the news on TV, she wouldn’t be able to ignore the scandal—or the gossip—for long.
After all these years, was she really going to uncover another secret about her father?
There had to be a way to fix this.
On Monday morning, Luke stood on the gravel pad outside the resort’s garage, massaging the ache forming in his forehead.
His mother had convinced him they needed to accept new reservations because they desperately needed the income.
Luke had agreed—as long as they didn’t book any extreme skiers or snowboarders.
Snowflakes drifted from a slate-gray sky.
Not blizzard conditions. At least, not yet.
But they’d finally groomed the trails behind the resort, and the weather was perfect for their four guests, a sweet family from Anchorage, who’d paid to rent snowmobiles.
Except they only had two available to rent, and one wouldn’t start.
Luke sighed. He so did not want to offer a refund.
Hank, the one guy in Redemption who could repair almost anything, stood beside him, his breath visible in the cold air. Frowning, he scrolled through his phone with grease-streaked fingers. They had tinkered with everything they could think of. Fuel line. Spark plug. Battery. Still nothing.
“My best guess is still the fuel pump,” Hank said. He paused and coughed.
“Hank, you need to get that cough checked out, my man.” Luke clasped him gently on the shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”
Hank nodded, then dabbed at his mouth with a red bandanna he’d yanked from his overalls pocket.
“Going to the clinic in a few minutes,” he rasped. “Didn’t want to leave you hanging.”
“Hope they can help you out. I didn’t realize you were coughing so much or I wouldn’t have asked you to come take a look at this.”
“No problem.” Hank coughed one more time, his cheeks getting red, and he held up his phone.
“You’re gonna need some new filters too.
These are worn out. Best price I’ve found is online from a place in Colorado.
While you’re at it, wouldn’t hurt to order more spark plugs. Have you taken a look at the track?”
Luke tugged his knit hat down farther over his ears to ward off the chill. “Not yet. Scared of what I might find.”
Hank smiled. “Now you know why you got such a great deal when you bought this beast.”
Frowning, Luke resisted the urge to kick one of the rocks on the ground across the yard. “I almost had Tate and Ethan convinced we should lease two more from a dealer in Anchorage. But since I kicked out the rowdy skiers, that’s probably not a wise move.”
Hank’s kind eyes crinkled at the corners. “Don’t give up hope. You’ve got four guests right now. More customers will come back soon. It’s all in God’s timing.”
“Yeah.” Luke sighed. “Timing is everything, isn’t it?”
His thoughts leaped from the broken-down snowmobile to Emma. Not that he planned to help her. No matter how many sea lions camped out on her old deck.
The resort’s back door squeaked open, and they both turned. Luke’s pulse sped as Emma strolled toward them. She wore dark gray jeans, expensive sneakers, and a silver puffy vest layered over a gray hooded sweatshirt.
“Hank, this is Emma Carlisle. Emma, this is Hank Milton.”
Hank offered a friendly smile. “Hi, Emma. I used to help your dad out sometimes, fixing stuff around the house. That’s a great piece of property you’ve got.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Not so great at the moment, but thank you.”
“Ah, yes. The sea lions.” Hank shook his head. “Don’t that beat all?”
Luke shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “What brings you by?”
She looked from Hank to Luke. “Abbie told me I should talk to you about getting a closer look at my family’s property.”
Hank coughed again, then tipped his head toward the parking lot. “I’d better run. Nice to see you, Emma.”
“Keep me posted, Hank,” Luke said, shooting him a knowing look.
“You got it.” Hank gave him a thumbs-up. “I’ll text you the link for those parts. If you place that order, it should be here from Denver by next week.”
“I’ll let you know,” Luke said.
Hank ambled slowly across the parking lot to his well-loved F-150 pickup truck.
“Snowmobile’s out of commission, so I’m afraid I can’t give you a ride today.” Luke grinned, then gestured over his shoulder to the machine behind him, sitting on the garage’s concrete floor.
“I’m going to need something a little faster,” Emma said. “I don’t have much time.”
Oh. He studied her, measuring his words carefully. Did she really think she could just swoop in and resolve this in a few days? He kept his judgy commentary to himself. “My truck will get us to the dead end and we can hike in. The trail’s still there.”
Her smooth brow furrowed. “Is that my only option?”
“No, but it might be your best option. I can take you on a flyover in the chopper. Or I can call in a favor and borrow a friend’s boat. It’s got a small cabin and plenty of horsepower, but you’ll need warmer clothes and rubber boots.”
“If we take the boat, what will we do when we get out there?”
Luke pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m not sure. To be honest, I don’t know how you’re going to get past those sea lions. I’m happy to help you figure it out though.”
She offered a relieved smile. “I’m up for whatever you think is best.”
Man, she looked beautiful. Sleek, polished. A far cry from the wild-haired girl who used to challenge him to races down to the dock. He tried to play cool because that ring on her hand was like a beacon, reminding him that she belonged to another.
He scrolled through his contacts. “Let me text Cal. Then we’ll go inside and see if my mom has some rubber boots, gloves, and a parka with a hood that you can borrow.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.” Emma fished her phone from her pocket. “Abbie sent me a link to a story about a sea lion harassing people and their pets near the harbor in Ketchikan. I’ll read that and see if there are any hot tips.”