Lake Season Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Author Note

  Prologue

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  twenty-four

  twenty-five

  twenty-six

  twenty-seven

  twenty-eight

  twenty-nine

  thirty

  thirty-one

  thirty-two

  thirty-three

  thirty-four

  thirty-five

  thirty-six

  thirty-seven

  thirty-eight

  thirty-nine

  forty

  forty-one

  forty-two

  forty-three

  forty-four

  forty-five

  forty-six

  forty-seven

  forty-eight

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Praise for Denise Hunter

  Also by Denise Hunter

  Copyright

  Author Note

  Dear friend,

  I’m so excited to start a new series with you! This one is centered around a historic inn and three adult siblings who have already found a special place in my heart.

  The seed for this first story began when my husband and I were renovating a one-hundred-year-old lake cottage. When the drywall was peeled away we were delighted to uncover signatures on the wooden walls beneath it—the boards had served as a guest book of sorts. The signatures dated back into the 1920s and ’30s and, to our surprise, included some notorious gangsters of the day—John Dillinger and Baby Face Nelson among them. That gang was known to have roamed the area and was rumored to have hidden out around the lakes where the cottage was located.

  Unfortunately, after consulting with some experts, we found out those signatures were not authentic. But the potential discovery was so exciting that it got my creative juices flowing. What could my protagonist find behind the walls of her historic inn? Lake Season is the direct result of that inspiration. I had so much fun conceiving and writing this story, and I’m thrilled to share it with you. I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did.

  Blessings!

  Denise

  Prologue

  The house was eerily silent. Molly Bennett leaned against the closed door, too weary to move another step. Her throat ached from swallowing tears, and a headache throbbed at her temples.

  Her older brother, Levi, was still on the sidewalk saying good-bye to the last of the friends and neighbors who had come to offer condolences. The last few days had been exhausting beyond anything she’d ever experienced, but Levi had been like a rock.

  A sound on the steps drew her attention, and she looked up the grand staircase to the landing, where the stairs turned for the second floor.

  Her eighteen-year-old sister, Grace, peeked around the balustrade. “Are they gone yet?”

  “Every last one.” Molly straightened, feigning more energy than she felt. Grace had disappeared from the gathering about an hour into it. Who could blame her?

  “Come on down,” Molly said. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  While Grace settled in the living room Molly went to the kitchen, the old, scarred floor creaking under her feet. Miss Della had already set the kitchen to rights and hugged them good-bye. Molly didn’t know what they would’ve done the last few days without their mother’s best friend. She’d guided them through the funeral process, organized today’s luncheon, and when it all got to be too much, simply enveloped them in warm hugs.

  The whole town had come together to get the Bennett siblings through the last few days. Mama’s beautician of many years did her hair and makeup. Nonnie Hartwell sang Daddy’s favorite hymn. Food flooded in from the ladies at church along with offers of help.

  When Molly returned, Levi was in the living room with Grace. His dark hair stuck up as if he’d just run his fingers through it. He’d ditched his suit coat in the July heat, and now his tie was loosened, the top shirt button undone. He suddenly looked much older than his twenty-six years.

  Grace was faring no better. Her blue eyes were bloodshot, her color wan, and even though it had only been a few days since that awful phone call, she seemed to have lost weight. Her cheeks had hollowed out, and the navy dress Mama bought her for homecoming last fall seemed loose on her lanky frame.

  Molly handed Grace the tea, then turned to Levi. “You want something? Coffee, iced tea? Valium?”

  “No thanks.” Not even a smile.

  Molly sat on the sofa next to Grace and kicked off her heels. She hadn’t realized until this very moment how much her toes hurt after being squeezed into them for five long hours. She wondered, not for the first time, why society continued these rituals that only exhausted the recently bereaved. Even she, extroverted and chatty, was out of words and the energy to use them.

  Levi, letting his guard down for the first time since the accident, slunk back in the recliner across from them. His shoulders gave in to gravity, his eyes closing on a deep sigh.

  None of them had taken their parents’ seats, Molly noted. Daddy’s brown recliner and Mama’s corner of the couch sat empty. She could close her eyes right now and almost catch a whiff of Mama’s sweet perfume and the leathery scent that followed Daddy as closely as a shadow.

  “What happens next?” Grace asked, tears in her voice. “What are we going to do?”

  It was the question that had been rolling around Molly’s mind when she wasn’t finding dress clothes in which to bury their parents or scouring picture albums with her best friend, Skye.

  “We don’t have to do anything for a few weeks,” Levi said. “My boss is giving me some time off.”

  “And I can finish my summer courses online,” Molly said. “My advisor already approved it.”

  At twenty-three Molly was only one semester away from her hospitality degree. Her fall semester would consist of an internship, which she’d already secured at a prominent boutique hotel in Italy.

  “But what about after that?” Grace asked.

  A look of reluctance came over Levi’s face as his eyes toggled between them, finally settling on his younger sister. “I thought you might come to Los Angeles and stay with me for a while.”

  “What do you mean, ‘a while’?” Grace said. “Like till the end of the summer?”

  Levi took his time in answering. “Until you finish high school. We’ll have to sell the house and—”

  “No!” Grace popped to her feet. Her chest heaved, and her face flushed with emotion. “All my friends are here! And I can’t give up my volleyball team! You can’t take that away from me.”

  Grace had been held back in elementary school, so she was only starting her junior year even though she’d just turned eighteen.

  “I know it’s not ideal,” Levi said, “but we have to be reasonable, Grace.”

  Molly reached for Grace’s hand, but her sister jerked it away.

  “I’m staying in Bluebell. I don’t care what you say, I’m staying. We can’t just sell the house. How can you even say that?”

  “Honey, we can’t afford to keep it,” Molly said. “There’s still a mortgage to pay. Mama and Daddy borrowed from the equ
ity for all the renovations. They still owed a lot of money on it.”

  Grace’s eyes turned glassy. “This is my home. Mama and Daddy’s home. They wouldn’t want us to sell it, and you know it.”

  Molly couldn’t dispute that.

  Their parents had been slowly restoring the historic building to its original purpose: an inn. They’d planned to run it together when their dad retired from his medical practice next year. It had been the town’s first inn, built in 1905, and featured ten bedrooms. Early on it had been a stagecoach stop, then for years it housed the post office, till it was sold and turned into the governor’s summer home. Their parents purchased it when the kids were little, and they’d grown up here.

  But four days ago everything had changed.

  “We don’t want to sell the house,” Levi said, “but we don’t have another option.”

  “Who’s going to buy it like this anyway?” Grace asked, gesturing wildly. “The whole upstairs is in shambles.”

  Not an exaggeration. Their parents had been in the process of taking down walls to give the rooms en suite bathrooms.

  “It’s not ideal, but it can’t be helped,” Levi said.

  “Stop saying that. You could quit your job and move back here. At least until I finish school.”

  “Where would I earn enough to support this household? Bluebell’s small, and you know how seasonal it is.”

  “You could work in Asheville, couldn’t you? There’s lots of jobs there.”

  “That’s too far away, Grace.”

  “I’m not leaving my friends!” Grace’s tears spilled over. “We can’t sell the house. All our memories are here. It’d be like losing Mama and Daddy all over again!”

  “Our memories are in our hearts, Gracie,” Molly said. “We won’t ever lose them.”

  “That’s just the baloney people say to try and make you feel better! Every time I sit on the porch swing I feel Daddy with me. And every time I walk in the kitchen I see Mama at the sink. I don’t want to forget them.” Her words wobbled.

  Molly’s heart ached in her chest. “You won’t forget them. None of us will.”

  Grace crossed her arms. “I’m not leaving. I’m eighteen and that makes me a legal adult. I’ll stay with Sarah’s family if I have to.”

  Sarah’s family loved Grace, but Mrs. Benson was being treated for breast cancer, and Molly doubted the family could take Grace in for two years. Besides which, Grace needed family right now. They all did. They had one grandmother left, but she was in assisted living in Georgia.

  Molly looked at the stubborn tilt to Grace’s chin, the spark of will in her eyes. Then she met Levi’s gaze and held it for a long moment.

  The idea that had been forming in the back of her mind the last few days surfaced once again. Crazy. Sheer madness.

  But was it really? Was selling the house and moving Grace to a strange city a better option?

  “What if . . .” Molly said. “What if we opened the inn just as Mama and Daddy planned?” The idea sounded as crazy on her lips as it had in her mind.

  Levi stilled.

  “Yes!” Grace said. “We should do it.”

  Molly looked at Levi. “You could move back home and get a job here. We have the rest of the equity loan in the bank—maybe enough for the remodel and to float us until it’s complete. We could remodel over the fall and winter just as they were planning to do and open in the spring in time for lake season.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking,” Levi said. “Remodeling this thing would be a full-time job, Molly. And two of us, running an inn this size?”

  “Three of us.” Grace dropped to the edge of the sofa. “I can work evenings during the school year and all summer, and after I graduate I can work full time.”

  “You’re going to college,” Levi said firmly.

  Even Molly prickled at his bossy tone. “You have a business degree, Levi, and I’m almost finished with my hospitality degree. We couldn’t be more suited to this.”

  “I can do the website,” Grace offered. “And all the artsy stuff. We can make this work. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, and I won’t complain.”

  “I don’t want to be an innkeeper the rest of my life,” Levi said. “And you were aiming for something a little grander than a small inn on Bluebell Lake.”

  “It wouldn’t have to be forever.” Molly did want more than this eventually. But all that could wait, couldn’t it? Wasn’t it more important to do what was best for Grace right now?

  She shifted to business mode—her brother’s love language. “Look, if we sell the place now, we’ll get pennies on the dollar. Who’s going to want a building that’s half house and half inn? If we finish the remodel and make a go of the place, even for two or three years, it’ll be much more attractive to potential buyers. You know I’m right.”

  Levi leaned forward on the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He gave Molly a pointed look. “What about your internship? You’ve been talking about it for months. Italy, Molly. Your dream. You can’t just throw that away.”

  Her heart shrank two sizes at the thought of giving up the opportunity. She’d worked so hard to secure that internship, and they’d chosen her over dozens of applicants.

  But one look at Grace’s pleading expression solidified her decision and eased her discomfort. Grace needed her now. Needed them both. Their parents would expect them to look out for each other, not their own interests.

  “Not going to lie . . .” Molly said. “It’ll be hard to turn that down. But everything’s changed, Levi. Everything has to be on the table. We can’t just go back to life as usual. All we have now is each other.”

  Her words hung in the air, suspended like a spring fog over the valley. Their parents had taught by example that family came first. Molly hadn’t always gotten that right.

  They needed to do this. Not only for Grace, but because of what this inn had meant to their parents. It had been their dream; how could their children just let it die?

  “Please, Levi?” Grace said quietly. “You know it’ll work.”

  “What I know is that half of businesses fail in the first five years,” Levi said, but his tone had softened.

  “Mama and Daddy already crunched all the numbers,” Molly said. Levi had even helped them with it. “They have a solid business plan, and we have the abilities to carry it out. It’s not such a crazy idea. I think we can do this.”

  She held Levi’s eyes for a long moment. It was a lot to ask. He had recently been promoted to project manager at a commercial construction company. He’d be throwing away all that hard work.

  But they all would be giving up things they wanted. Even Grace would be investing her time and talents toward this endeavor. Did she know what she was in for? Molly wanted to make sure.

  She gave her sister a firm look. “You wouldn’t have time for all your extracurricular activities. You’ll have to drop everything but volleyball if you’re going to help out around here.”

  “I will. I’ll do it. I promise.” Grace didn’t even blink. “Anything, as long as we get to keep the house.”

  “We’ll be selling it eventually anyway,” Molly said. “Once it’s a viable business.”

  Molly had dreamed of running a hotel in Tuscany ever since she’d watched a travel show on the region during high school. She’d taken three years of Italian in preparation and had studied everything she could find on Italy and Italian culture.

  “I know. I understand. And I know it’s asking a lot of both of you, and I really appreciate that you’d sacrifice so much for me.” Grace’s wide blue eyes pleaded with them.

  “I think we can do this,” Molly said again. Ignoring the brief sting of regret, she stuck out her hand, palm down, as they used to do as children. “I’m on board.”

  Grace immediately set her hand on Molly’s. “Me too.”

  They looked at their brother.

  “Levi . . . ?” Molly prodded.

  His gaze shifted between his
sisters. His mouth pinched at the corners.

  Tension gathered, making the air feel tight and heavy somehow.

  Finally he heaved a great sigh and stretched out his hand. “I must be crazy. But . . . all right. Let’s do it.”

  one

  Ten months later

  Adam Bradford was nobody’s idea of a hero. His eyes swept past his reflection in the rearview mirror of his rental car as he pulled up to the curb at the edge of downtown Bluebell.

  He did have that crooked nose that seemed so popular on the heroes of romance novels, but he hadn’t gotten it in a fistfight. He’d gotten it at the library while unshelving a difficult-to-reach hardcover copy of Moby Dick. And while he might be trim and fit, he did not sport rippling abs, a chiseled jaw, or even the requisite cleft chin. It wasn’t just his ordinary looks either. He wasn’t particularly adept with people, especially the fairer sex. The irony was not lost on him.

  But there were certain things at which he was extremely proficient. Writing—that went without saying—academics, research, planning. Adam was a planner and a plotter, but this time his preparations had completely backfired.

  He looked at the majestic white house, likely turn-of-the-century, situated on a shady lawn about twenty feet off the busy sidewalk. There was no sign indicating it was an inn, but his app listed it as such, and he was getting desperate.

  He exited the sedan, maneuvered around a small Dumpster, and followed a walkway past a dirty Bobcat and up to the massive porch. The front door, an old wooden behemoth, was open, a positive sign. He stepped over the threshold to the sudden sound of a circular saw.

  There was a grand staircase directly ahead and, to the left of it, a tall mahogany stand that appeared to be a check-in desk. It was unmanned, however, and devoid of a bell. He opened his mouth to call out, but before he could utter a word a head peeked around the corner to the right of the staircase.

  “Oh good, you’re here. Help!” Dark hair swung over the slim shoulder of a woman he guessed to be in her early twenties.

  She had the kind of natural beauty he associated with soap commercials, and he could easily picture her a few years ago, walking across a football field on homecoming night on the quarterback’s arm.