Summer at Lake Haven Read online

  “She could be nice, too,” Amelia answered, parroting Sam’s own words.

  “We’re awfully sad she’s dead. So is our father,” Thomas said. “We miss her terribly.”

  “But we’re not supposed to talk about her anymore,” Amelia said.

  Sam frowned. “Why on earth not?”

  “Our dad said she’s gone and it’s time to move on with our lives.”

  Sam stared at her, appalled that any man would tell his children to move on while they were busy grieving the loss of their mother. Could he really be that cold and unfeeling that he wouldn’t let the children discuss their memories of their mother?

  Her mother had done the same. She hadn’t wanted Samantha to talk about her father, as though ignoring her pain would ease it somehow. Instead, it had only made her feel worse, as if her father and all her memories of him had been wiped off the earth.

  She wanted to march to the house next door and shake Ian Summerhill. His children were grieving for their mother. How could he have the gall to tell them it was time they forgot their pain and moved on with their lives?

  “We should probably go,” Amelia said, tugging her younger brother in a way that told Samantha she was very much the dominant sibling.

  “Thank you for rescuing my puppies,” she said with a smile.

  “It was no trouble. They’re very cute,” Amelia said.

  “I think they like us,” Thomas said.

  “Dogs are smart, you know,” Samantha said. “They love to be with people who like them.”

  She sounded like much more of an expert than she was. Every scrap of knowledge she had learned about dogs had been obtained over the past few months from books, websites and trial and error with Betsey and the puppies.

  “That must be why they like us and came right to us when we found them in the garden.” Amelia looked pleased.

  “I’m sure it was. They knew you would be kind to them,” Samantha said. “You know, you are welcome to come visit Betsey and her puppies anytime you would like.”

  As she spoke, Samantha suddenly had an idea. She had been looking for someone to check in on the puppies once or twice a day, to refill their water should they need it and entertain them for a few moments. Amelia and Thomas were right next door. They would be perfect for the job.

  Would an eight-year-old girl and six-year-old boy be responsible enough for that? Perhaps their nanny could supervise. Would they be willing?

  She wanted to blurt out the question, then thought better of it. She couldn’t possibly bring up the idea to the children before she’d had the chance to speak with their father about it.

  Of course, that would mean having a conversation with the man and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that, especially if he were the sort of ogre who discouraged his children from grieving their mother.

  “We had better go,” the girl said after a moment. “We’re not supposed to come here without permission and we’re also not to go close to the lake again without Mrs. Gilbert or Father with us.”

  “A very good rule,” Samantha said.

  “We wouldn’t have broken it except the puppies came to us,” Thomas said. “We saw them from inside and couldn’t allow them to wander far.”

  “Sometimes you have to break a few rules in life, especially when the stakes are high enough.”

  They looked shocked that a grown-up would ever dare say such a thing. Sam couldn’t really blame them, as she was only now beginning to accept that herself. Still, she quickly changed the subject.

  “Betsey and I are very grateful to you for rescuing her pups,” Sam said with a smile. “Come over anytime, as long as it’s okay with your father or Mrs. Gilbert.”

  “Thank you. Goodbye, ma’am.”

  “Goodbye,” Thomas said, waving with one hand as his sister took the other and marched across the grass with him.

  She watched them go back inside the house, charmed by them both.

  Poor dears. Amelia and Thomas were sweet children who appeared hungry for emotional nurturing.

  She certainly had experience with that. Perhaps that was why she was so drawn to them, considering she was something of an expert at yearning for something from a parent she could never have.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HER OPPORTUNITY TO speak to Ian Summerhill about his children came sooner than she would have liked.

  Later that night, she finally set aside her sewing machine and moved Gemma’s dress to the wardrobe where she stored items she was working on, out of the dust and the elements.

  Betsey whined softly and Samantha looked over to see the puppies were sleeping.

  She was exhausted herself after sewing for ten hours straight and was only too ready to crash into her own bed, but she had learned in her limited time as a pet human that when animals needed attention, they needed attention.

  Moving quietly so she didn’t wake up the puppies, she scooped the little mama up from behind the gate in the doorway.

  “You need to go out?” she whispered.

  Unlike dogs Sam had read about in books, Betsey didn’t communicate in some mysterious, almost-human way like tilting her head in approval or whining or giving any other indication that she understood Sam’s question or had any interest in going outside.

  She only gave Samantha a quizzical look and slumped in her arms.

  Maybe if Samantha had been able to communicate a little better with the dog, Betsey might have mentioned earlier in their relationship that she was expecting puppies.

  She smiled, imagining what the conversation might be like. It was a one-night stand that meant nothing, and the minute he found out about the buns in the oven, he took off to eat out of somebody else’s bowl.

  Too late for true confessions, even if Betsey could talk.

  “Let’s go out. You might not need to but I could use a little walk around the yard.”

  As she always did at night, Samantha hooked the leash onto the little ten-pound dog, more for Betsey’s protection than anything else. The dog didn’t seem inclined to wander but she could easily slip away in the dark.

  And then there was the wildlife to worry about. Larger creatures like moose or mountain lions or even bear could be spotted around the lake sometimes. More common were raccoons, porcupines or, heaven forbid, skunks.

  With the dog on her leash, Sam walked outside into the quiet music of a June night. The gentle lap of the water against the dock, the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze, the hoot of a nearby great horned owl she had seen around the neighborhood.

  The night was sweet with the scent of pine and fir and that indefinable, distinctive smell of the lake in summer. Someone in the neighborhood must have cut their grass earlier, adding the delicious scent to the mix.

  She drew in a deep breath, feeling some of the stress from a day hunched over a machine begin to ease from her shoulders.

  No place on earth could possibly compare to Lake Haven for perfect summer evenings.

  She loved this place. It was part of her. She briefly had dated an airplane pilot who had been appalled when she told him she had never traveled outside of the western United States. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him she rarely even left Lake Haven County and had only been on an airplane twice, both times to attend a fabric trade show in Dallas.

  Linda Fremont had not been one to take vacations. That would have required her to close the store or leave it in the hands of her employees, something she had rarely been willing to do.

  Besides, they didn’t need to go anywhere else, Linda would often say. Why should they, when they lived in such a beautiful place?

  On this, her mother had a point. Still, the world was full of beautiful places. Staying here for her entire life felt a little like choosing to sew every pattern with only one color of fabric.

  Where would she go, though? Her entire worl
d existed around this lake.

  This wasn’t the night to figure that out, when she was mentally and physically exhausted from sewing all day.

  Betsey quickly did her business but didn’t seem in a hurry to go inside so Samantha decided to walk to the water.

  Every muscle in her spine and shoulders ached from spending the day either hunched over a sewing machine or using needle and thread for the fine handwork on the wedding dress.

  It really would be magnificent. She couldn’t wait to see the finished product.

  Yes, making wedding gowns was hard, challenging work but she loved every moment.

  She felt strongly that every woman deserved to feel beautiful on her wedding day. Samantha loved being able to do her part to provide that.

  She was almost to the dock when she suddenly saw a beam of light coming from the house next door.

  Betsey froze in the act of sniffing a tuft of grass, then hurried to hide behind Samantha as Ian Summerhill emerged from the darkness.

  Everything inside her seemed to coil, like a bobbin too tightly wound. Her reaction was ridiculous. Okay, he was gorgeous. She couldn’t deny it. The younger version of herself might have tried to flirt and tease and otherwise make a fool of herself.

  A few years ago, she would have been entranced by the idea of a gorgeous Englishman living next door. Okay, let’s be honest. She might have had the same reaction to him six months ago, before her mother died and all of her priorities in life shifted.

  That was then. She was a different person now. She had four employees, numerous suppliers and dozens of customers who counted on her to keep the doors open at Fremont Fashions. She didn’t have time to nurture a crush on every man who entered her orbit. Heck, she barely had time to shower these days, with all the custom orders she was taking for wedding dresses.

  Anyway, if she were going to develop a crush on any man, it certainly wouldn’t be for an unfeeling brute who wouldn’t even let his children grieve for their mother.

  Surely she had developed better taste than that, after all these years.

  She sighed as the man came closer. He hadn’t seen her yet and she was half tempted to slink into the shadows and skulk back to her house so she could avoid talking to him altogether.

  But she needed to ask him about allowing the children to help her with the puppies. When would she find a better opportunity?

  “Good evening,” she said.

  The flashlight’s trajectory wobbled as he gave a little jolt of surprise. “Oh. Ms. Fremont. I didn’t see you there.”

  Maybe because you were too busy being a jerk?

  “Sorry to startle you,” she lied. She would have liked the man to fall into the lake, but she supposed that wasn’t very charitable.

  This sudden fierce antagonism left her uncomfortable. She was basing her entire opinion on him because of one thing his daughter had said, that he had told them it was time to move on after their mother’s death.

  Why was she so upset about that? He was the children’s father. It was his right to parent them as he saw best.

  Was it because her mother had done the same thing to Sam when she was his children’s age, refusing to let her talk about losing her father?

  Or did it have more to do with her own struggle to move on from her mother’s death?

  Neither of those things concerned Ian Summerhill. He was her good friend’s brother. She could at least treat him with politeness.

  “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” she tried.

  “Yes. Beautiful.” He looked at the stars spread above them for a moment, his features in profile, then turned back to her and held up what looked like a complicated fish finder. “Some of my equipment arrived and I wanted to load it onto the boat so I wouldn’t forget in the morning. Sorry to disturb you. I won’t be long.”

  “You’re not bothering me.” It was a lie, but she didn’t need him to know that.

  “Again, thank you for allowing me to use your dock for my research boat. It would have been far less convenient if I had to travel to the marina every time I wanted to use it.”

  She wanted to tell him she had given permission before discovering what an unfeeling father he was. Now that she knew, she wanted to rescind her approval.

  That would be petty and unfair, though. Something her mother would have done. Just because she didn’t like the man’s parenting techniques was no reason to stand in the way of science.

  “It’s fine. Do what you need to do. Betsey and I will get out of your way.”

  “It is your dock,” he said, his tone crisp, bordering on stiff. “I wouldn’t want to chase you away from your own property. As I said, this shouldn’t take long.”

  He walked around her, the flashlight moving again, and climbed from the dock to the large wooden boat there. A moment later, he climbed out again without the equipment.

  “Is it safe there? That looks expensive. Haven Point is mostly safe from crime, but sometimes during the tourism season, we get some vandals and petty thieves.”

  “First of all, nobody but another fisheries biologist would want it. Second, there’s a locker on board with a padlock. I stowed it in there.”

  “So it should be safe from any wandering salmon researcher looking to cause trouble.”

  “For now, anyway. I hope to get an early start in the morning and that’s one less thing I’ll have to haul aboard then.”

  She supposed it was the same concept as her sometimes loading her sewing projects into the car before she went to bed when she knew someone might be coming into the boutique for a fitting the next day.

  “Well, good night. Sorry to bother you,” he said in that same stiff tone, then surprised her by reaching down to pet Betsey, who immediately turned her face into his hand with adoration. Her dog liked him, which was enough to make Samantha question her own antagonism.

  This was her chance, she reminded herself. What better opportunity would she find to talk to him about the children helping with the puppies? “I’m actually glad of the chance to speak with you.”

  In the moonlight, she could see one eyebrow raise. Why did the man have to be so blasted good-looking?

  “Oh? Have you reconsidered giving permission for me to anchor the boat here?”

  “No. Actually, it’s about your children.”

  He frowned. “Have Amelia and Thomas been bothering you? I’m sorry. I’ve told them to stay on our rental property.”

  “No. They helped me today actually. You see, Betsey here has three puppies.”

  “I saw them out on the grass over here earlier in some sort of pen.”

  “I thought it was a nice idea to let them enjoy the outdoors on summer afternoons but they have become little escape artists and apparently they wandered into your garden. Thomas and Amelia were kind enough to bring them home for me.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. I’m very grateful to them. The puppies might be rascals but they’re adorable rascals. I would have hated for them to go astray. That would make both me and Betsey sad, not to mention the new owners they’ll be going to in a few weeks.”

  “I’m glad Thomas and Amelia could help.”

  “You should know, the children were wonderful with them. They knew how to hold them correctly and seemed to enjoy playing with them.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. We don’t have a dog but my parents have four. The children have had some experience with them over the years and have been trying to persuade me for some time now that we should get a dog.”

  She wanted to tell him to go for it. Children need something to love them unconditionally.

  Not that she knew that from experience or anything.

  “I could tell they were comfortable around animals. Seeing them today actually gave me an idea.”

  “What sort of idea?” he asked, his voice wary.

/>   At his tone, she almost lost her nerve, especially when he narrowed his gaze and studied her intently in the moonlight.

  “I’ve been trying to find someone who might be available to check in on them during the day while I work, but so far it’s been a challenge.”

  He gave her a look of confusion. “Forgive me, but I thought you were a seamstress. Aren’t you making my sister’s wedding gown?”

  He made it sound like she was some kind of Victorian dressmaker far beneath his notice, toiling away in some sweatshop.

  She tried not to bristle. “I sew wedding dresses at home on my own time. But during the day I run a small clothing boutique in downtown Haven Point. Fremont Fashions.”

  “Do you?”

  He wasn’t being supercilious on purpose, she suspected; it was only that British accent that made his words sound clipped and questioning and left her feeling defensive.

  “It’s small but thriving. Our business has increased substantially in the past few years.” She didn’t add that was because she had taken over the responsibility of ordering inventory. Now that the boutique actually offered clothing at reasonable prices that people weren’t ashamed to be caught dead in, business had improved tremendously.

  “We serve the clothing needs of women who want something a little more unique than they can find at the box stores in Shelter Springs,” she went on. “I try to think about my clientele and order in clothing items that will be a good fit for a variety of lifestyles and budgets. Stylish and well-fitted, while still rugged enough for our varied climate.”

  She was rambling, she thought, and promptly clamped her teeth together.

  “Sorry. That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “My job keeps me very busy when I’m there. I’ve tried to take the puppies and Betsey to the shop with me so I can keep an eye on them. That worked for a few weeks but they’ve grown too big and too active for that now. I’ve taken to leaving them here and checking on them throughout the day when I can but even that isn’t the best solution.”

  “Where would my children fit into this picture, Ms. Fremont?”