Title:
The Path
Author: Tawdra Kandle
Publisher: Tawdra Kandle
Pages: 232
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: Tawdra Kandle
Publisher: Tawdra Kandle
Pages: 232
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Abby
Donavan came to the small beach community of Crystal Cove to start over. After
a painful affair broke her heart and derailed her burgeoning career, taking
over management for the just-opened bed-and-breakfast was the safe choice. In
this sleepy town, Abby figured she could bury her memories and forget the pain.
When the chance to have her own hotel falls into her lap, though, she can’t resist the temptation. Making the old Riverside Inn into the showplace she’s always dreamed of running offers the second chance she never expected.
Abby didn’t expect another kind of second chance to land on her doorstep at the same time. Ryland Kent wants to help her bring the Riverside back to life, and his passion for restoration is irresistible. But as much as she wants to ignore it, she can’t help seeing another spark in his eyes . . . one that offers to reignite her own flame.
Sometimes the path to a happily-ever-after is anything but smooth.
When the chance to have her own hotel falls into her lap, though, she can’t resist the temptation. Making the old Riverside Inn into the showplace she’s always dreamed of running offers the second chance she never expected.
Abby didn’t expect another kind of second chance to land on her doorstep at the same time. Ryland Kent wants to help her bring the Riverside back to life, and his passion for restoration is irresistible. But as much as she wants to ignore it, she can’t help seeing another spark in his eyes . . . one that offers to reignite her own flame.
Sometimes the path to a happily-ever-after is anything but smooth.
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She was gorgeous.
And I was in love.
I could always tell right away. Love at first sight was something I believed in, just like I believed in the magic of Christmas, the existence of angels and the hope of a World Series win for the Philadelphia Phillies.
And I was in love.
I could always tell right away. Love at first sight was something I believed in, just like I believed in the magic of Christmas, the existence of angels and the hope of a World Series win for the Philadelphia Phillies.
Well, two out of three ain’t bad.
It usually happened for me
within the first few minutes. I didn’t have to hear a word; I could just take
her in, watch her and feel the hum of possibilities. I loved that giddy sense
of hope that filled me during the early days, when everything was potential and
dreams, before reality came crashing in and we had to deal with problems and
snafus. Before my eyes were forced to see that beneath the beauty lay
brokenness and decay.
But for now, all I could see
was the future, like a vision spread out before me. She was both the vision and
the future. Yeah, there was no doubt in my mind.
The Riverside Inn was a dream
come true.
“So you gonna stand there and
drool all day, or you gonna get to work?” Lincoln punched me in the shoulder,
grinning.
“Yeah, I might. Drool, I
mean.” I slid my gaze to his. “She’s pretty damn drool-worthy.”
“Oh, hell, Ry. No way. This
one?” Linc glanced at the sprawling building, disbelief in his eyes. “Aw,
dammit. You got the look. I see it on your face. You got the look, and that
means you’re attached already.”
I laughed. “Pretty sad that
you know me that well. Yeah, she’s a go. I signed the papers day before
yesterday.”
“Shit, man.” Linc shook his
head. “This one is . . . it’s bad, buddy. I saw the reports. Most of the main
building’s structurally unsound. Tearing her down to the stud’s a given, but we
may have to go father than that.”
“I know.” I’d read the same
reports. The old hotel had been empty for years, sitting on this huge chunk of
land on the outskirts of Crystal Cove, Florida. One owner and then another had
made plans, only to abandon them. That was okay, because I knew she’d been
waiting for me all along.
“You know, yet you sign the
contract. You commit to this building. To this project. And you don’t only
commit yourself, you commit me and the rest of the company, too. Did you think
to ask me what I thought before you put your John Hancock down on those papers?
Why’d you bother asking me to come up here if you’d already made up your mind?”
I shrugged. “Linc, I gave you
a chance at partnership three years ago, and then again early this year. You
turned me down both times. I value your opinion, and I try to listen, but if
you want a real say in the projects we choose, then you’ve got to be a partner.
Because right now, I’m where the buck stops. So you have to trust that if I
said yes, I know how we can make it work. And I wanted you to see her because I
know this project will start percolating in the back of your mind now. You’ll
call me at midnight in a few days with ideas.” I elbowed my friend in the ribs.
“Besides, have we ever failed yet?”
“Came damn close in San
Francisco.” Linc muttered the words darkly, and I tried not to wince.
“Yeah, but it all worked out
in the end.” The old house we’d agreed to turn into a bar and restaurant for a
couple in California had seemed like an easy job when I took it. We’d been a
solid two weeks into the rehab when one of the guys discovered extensive
structural damage, probably from one of the earthquakes. It was too late to turn
around, too late to back out, and I was damned glad I had enough capital saved
to cover the extra manpower and work hours, not to mention the supplies. We’d
eeked it out, barely breaking even . . . but we did it. And now that trendy
little bar was getting rave reviews from all the fancy-schmancy food critics on
the West Coast.
“Barely.” Linc shook his head.
“Well, nothing we can do about this now. You committed us, so we’re all in, for
better or for worse. I’m heading back down to Vero, finish up the details and
the punch out on the salon. Then if it’s cool with you, I thought I might swing
over to Mont Devlin for a little while.”
I kept my face expressionless
as I nodded. “Sure. Of course it is. Gonna check in, see the kids a little?”
“Yeah, thought I might.” His
mouth pinched together, and I could see his jaw tighten under the thin layer of
his beard. “For whatever time they’ll give me, anyway.”
There wasn’t anything I could
say to him. Nothing could change the past or make this situation any less painful.
So I didn’t insult him with stupid meaningless words. Instead, I gave him a
light punch to the shoulder. Linc understood; his lips twisted into what passed
for a grim smile, and he shrugged.
“You take what you need, you
know that.” I leveled my gaze at him, making sure he understood me. “When
you’re ready, come on back here. I’ll put you to work.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He took
one step away, toward where I assumed his truck was waiting, before pausing to
glance at me over his shoulder. “You got a place to crash here yet, or you
still got to find something?”
“I have a place in town. The
owners have a friend— Cooper Davis, he’s actually a carpenter, a woodworker.
He’s going to do the decorative wood and the built-ins here on the Riverside.
Anyway, I guess he just moved in with his girlfriend, and he’s got an apartment
he doesn’t need at the moment. It’s furnished, close to the site and best of
all, free. Cooper says he’s just happy to have me there to keep my eye on his
shop at night.”
“Sweet.” Linc had regained a little of his
calm. “I’ll get in touch when I’m back. Where’re you setting up the guys?”
“Motel the next town over. It’s got restaurants, stores, bars . . . all the
stuff they need to be happy while they’re here.” I considered briefly and shook
my head. “And probably enough for them to get into trouble, unfortunately. But
we’ll deal with that when it comes.”
“Sure. Although I’ve got a feeling this one’s going to keep them so busy, they may be too tired to cause problems after work.”
“Sure. Although I’ve got a feeling this one’s going to keep them so busy, they may be too tired to cause problems after work.”
I grinned. “You could be
right.”
Linc laughed and started
walking again. “I’ll be in touch. Don’t have too much fun before I get here.”
“Fun doesn’t start ‘til you
do, buddy.” I yelled at his departing back, trying to ignore the slump in his
shoulders. I’d known Lincoln for over ten years. We’d met on one of my earliest
jobs, when I’d just started out. I’d been an unhappy combination of cocky and
homesick, carrying a giant chip on my shoulder to hide my terror that I might
fail. He was a few years older than me, already married with a kid, and he’d
taken me under his wing. When I’d launched my own company finally, offering
Linc a partnership had been a given. But his life had changed radically by
then, and he wasn’t ready for the added responsibility. Or so he claimed.
Still, we all knew Linc was as
much a part of this company’s leadership as I was. He might not’ve had the
title, but he put in the time and did the work. I just wished that it gave him
some peace of mind, something that had been missing from my friend for far too
long.
The sun was sinking lower in
the sky, and I rubbed my jaw, thinking. I was tempted to go in and check out a
few sections of the old hotel that I hadn’t gotten a chance to really explore
during my short walk-through with Logan Holt a few days back. We had a rule at
this stage in the game: nobody, no matter how experienced or careful, was
supposed to be in the building alone. In these rehab projects, we couldn’t
always predict when a supporting wall might decide to give way, or when a cracked
foundation might shift. The guidelines I’d laid down myself stated that one
person needed to be outside while at least two went in together. Breaking that
rule was grounds for instant firing.
But hell, I was the boss. I
knew my way around these old beauties, and I had an uncanny sense of where I
might not be safe. Stepping inside a little ways wasn’t going to hurt anyway. I
checked my cell and made sure I had both battery life and signal before ducking
beneath the yellow caution tape.
The Riverside had been built
over a hundred years ago, before Crystal Cove had even really existed. She’d
been de- signed to cater to the river traffic; although the Cove was known for
its beaches, they weren’t as popular a century before as they were now.
Instead, the hotel had welcomed guests who were meandering down the waterways
from Jacksonville to the interior of the state, which had still been largely
wilderness in some places.
I imagined what she must’ve
been like then; pretty and graceful, her two main wings sprawling over a large
expanse of green lawn that went to the edge of the river. Wide verandas
beckoned weary travelers, and the huge kitchens produced some of the best food
south of Savannah. I could picture it, and I wanted it for her again. I knew I
could make it happen.
Stepping carefully along the
shadowed corridor, I paused, squatting to examine some partially-rotted
molding. I pulled a small folding knife out of my pocket and carefully pried
off a piece. I rubbed my thumb over the front and smiled. Oh, yeah. I
could work with this. Wasn’t easy to find this kind of decorative trim anymore,
but I’d taken a peek into Cooper Davis’s shop, and I was pretty damn sure he
could replicate it. Might take some sweet talking, but he seemed like a good
guy, and he was undoubtedly passionate about his work. Well, so was I, about
mine. I’d make this happen.
Standing again, I moved into a
large open space which I decided must’ve been either a dining room or some kind
of reception hall. The windows here went nearly to the floor. It would’ve been
something to see in its time, I mused, even though now not one pane of glass
remained. There wasn’t even a decent frame left. That was okay. We’d bring them
back.
A cool breeze blew through the
room, and despite the stifling heat in the hotel, I felt goose flesh raise on
my arms. I glanced out the gaping holes that had once been French doors leading
to the side porch. For a moment, just a split second, I could’ve sworn I’d seen
a movement, something more than just the swaying of the trees. But although I
stood frozen for a while, I didn’t see anything again.
“Ghosties.” I muttered the
word to myself, shaking my head. All of us who worked this job, who spent hours
and days and weeks and months inside ancient buildings that wanted to come back
to life, were familiar with the feeling that we weren’t always alone. It didn’t
surprise me anymore; after all this time, I was now convinced that certain
expe- riences, both traumatic and ecstatic, left an imprint on the walls of the
building where they happened. I’d never seen a ghost or even suspected one
might be haunting a house I was working on, but it didn’t mean I didn’t
believe. It didn’t mean I thought they didn’t exist.
And right now, in this place,
I had the distinct sense of being . . . observed. As though someone were
keeping an eye on me, not yet sure whether I was here for harm or for help. I
stuck my hands in the front pockets of my jeans and spoke out loud, not
shouting but not whispering, either.
