Page 11 of Wrong Number, Right Cougar

“Anything I don’t know how to do, I can figure out.” Didn’t he know about YouTube? “But before you ask me for the 72nd time—no, I don’t have licenses for any of this. That’s not handyman common, at least not around here.”

He sank in his chair a little bit. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I know you can do this. My uncle trusted you.”

I pinched my nose, wishing there was more I could do. He might not have known his uncle, but there was definitely loss pouring off of him.

“This has to be hard for you, because a loss is a loss. And sometimes it’s not the person you lose that impacts you as much as realizing that there was someone that you aren’t missing.”

He looked up at me. For a second, I thought he was going to reach across the table and take my hand, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, that’s it. It’s like I missed out on his entire life. I hadn’t been able to put words to it before.” He picked up his coffee cup and put it right back down. “It’s more missing the relationship I could’ve had with him. And obviously he cared about me, but I’d never know him. Maybe you could tell me about him sometime? People in town said you worked for him for many years.”

“I did.” I put the pen down and picked up my cup. “But in recent years, he slowed down a lot, and I was here a lot less. Probably less than I should have been.”

I took a long sip of my coffee, not wanting to continue down that road. I already carried enough guilt. Adding to it wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

“Okay. Now that we have this list, does that mean there’s a chance that… you’re staying?” So much for easing in with a softball question.

“I didn’t say that.” He stood up. “But fixing it up and selling it or fixing it up and keeping it are both better than letting this place get razed, right?”

“Right.” On that we both agreed.

“Yeah, I was afraid you wanted to turn this into condos at first because of small towns and rumors,” I admitted. “If that happens, all the city folks would come in and the beauty would disappear.”

Was I being melodramatic? Yes, I was.

“I don’t think my uncle would have liked that.” He stood up. “I think I need to walk around again to make sure our list is good.”

“Did you want me to come with you?”

“No, I think I need a moment.”

That I understood.

“Okay, well then, I’ll go sit outside with my coffee, maybe wander home.” Get some air, because frankly, sitting here surrounded by his scent was nearly killing me.

“Yeah. Thanks. This is different than I thought it would be. More raw.”

“I know what you mean.” How I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay.

I watched him walk to the next room, and I went straight outside, taking a breath of relief and wondering what the heck I just got myself into.

7

THORN

Wilder left and I was in the house alone.

It wasn’t creepy and I could have slept here, but it was musty, so I was glad I had a room elsewhere. Wandering through the house, I peeked in all the rooms and wandered into the living area. One wall was lined with books, albums, and what appeared to be diaries.

After pulling some off the shelves, I sat on the couch and a plume of dust puffed up on either side. My nose twitched, and I opened a window.

Starting with the photo albums, I flicked through, studying pics of the lodge when it was first built. That was how I’d like it to look again, but I wasn’t sure I had the money. If Wilder was able to do most of the work, that might be cheaper than bringing in tradespeople.

But did I pay him by the hour or continue employing him as the resort handyman? We hadn’t discussed money, and I’d tiptoed around the issue. That wasn’t fair to him, and I had to bring it up tomorrow.

On opening another album, I gasped. There was Father as a teen, and beside him was Brett, perhaps before he was Alexei. I recognized him from the faded newspaper article in the corridor and from what I’d been able to find online.

They had their arms around one another and were smiling. I could see the resemblance between the two. There was a twinkle in my uncle’s eye that reminded me of that pirate I’d been imagining. Maybe he’d been thinking something similar.

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