Mending Places (8 page)

Hanna looked at the clock and saw it was almost check-in time. According to the books, they had three parties checking in for the week end, which would fill the lodge again. The season had officially begun. “Can you believe we’re almost booked solid? I guess advertising does pay.”

“That, and a little prayer, goes a long way.”

“How about a cup of tea before we have to worry about checking in more guests?”

Gram agreed, and Hanna went to the kitchen to start the tea, but the kettle wasn’t in its usual spot at the back of the stove. “Gram? Do you know where the teakettle is?”

“You know, I couldn’t find it yesterday, either,” she called from the great room.

Hanna checked the cupboards but couldn’t find it. Just then, Mrs. Eddlestein entered the kitchen, tying an apron around her waist. “Mrs. Eddlestein, do you know where the teakettle is?”

“What, dear?”

Hanna repeated the question louder, and the woman looked toward the stove, then the sink. “I surely don’t. It was here yesterday, I think.”

Hanna heard the front door open and looked around the corner to see Micah and the Sawyer group, three teenage boys and their father, returning from their three-day trip up Mount Moran.

“How was the trip?” she asked.

“Sweet!”

“Cool!”

Mr. Sawyer gave a thumbs-up, while the shortest teen simply smiled and nodded.

Micahs hair was damp around the collar, and his clothes were smeared with dirt.

“I’m starving,” said the oldest boy.

“Me too!” chimed his brother.

“You guys are always starving.” Mr. Sawyer tousled their heads and pointed them toward their room for a shower.

“Thanks, Micah!” One of them said, with no prompting whatsoever. “This has been the coolest vacation ever.”

“You guys did great. Now go get a shower so I don’t have to smell you anymore.”

They snickered and returned the compliment.

“They’re probably right,” Micah said. “It’s been a pleasure, Dave.” He shook Mr. Sawyer’s hand. “See you at dinner.”

Hanna had a feeling Mr. Sawyer was hanging behind to talk to her, and she was right.

“Ms. Landin, I just wanted you to know what a treasure of an employee you have there. He told us it was his first trip with Higher Grounds.”

“Thanks for telling me. That’s good to hear.”

“I own my own business, and I know how hard it is to find reliable people. Just wanted you to know he’s a keeper.”

Hanna laughed. “Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

He left, presumably for a shower of his own.

“I knew he was the right choice,” Gram said from her spot on the chair. “God doesn’t make mistakes.”

Hanna released a long breath. She’d believed all along Micah would be great with the customers, but hearing it firsthand eased her mind. That was the last untried aspect of her plan, and now it seemed
everything was right on track for a successful season. “I think we’re going to be all right, Gram.”

“Speak for yourself, child. Personally, I’m dying for that cup of tea.”

Hanna laughed. “Oh, Gram.”

Micah entered from the hall, still in his hiking wear, and carrying the silver kettle. “Is someone missing something?”

“There it is,” Hanna said, going to retrieve it.

“Where on earth was it?” Gram asked.

“Would you believe on my nightstand?”

“Oh my. How did it get there?”

Hanna felt the smile leave her face. Gram had cleaned Micah’s room yesterday morning and had undoubtedly brought it in there.

“Let’s just be glad we found it,” Hanna said and felt Micah’s intense perusal.

“I’m the only one who’s been in your room, so it must’ve been me,” Gram said. Her brows drew down over her eyes and formed a crease between them. “Now, why in the world would I have brought a kettle in there?”

Micah squeezed Gram’s shoulder. “I’ve been known to sleepwalk,” he said with a smile. “Maybe I decided to have a cup of tea in the middle of night.”

It was a nice try, but Hanna knew he was just trying to ease Gram’s mind. She didn’t know about the sleepwalking, but he didn’t even drink tea. He kidded around with Gram for a moment until she seemed to for get the incident, then went off to take his shower. The way he’d handled Gram touched her heart.

Hanna watched him go and wondered how else he would surprise her.

Natalie checked her watch, noting that a whole three minutes had passed since the last time she checked. She sipped her Diet Coke.

The waiter appeared again. “Would you like to continue to wait or go ahead and order?”

“I’ll wait.” Her smile was forced, her lips stiff.

Leave it to Keith to be late for their first date in over a year. Hanna, bless her heart, had offered to watch the boys, and Natalie had been too desperate to refuse.

In the two weeks since the confrontation, she’d gotten nowhere trying to discover the truth. Keith’s pants became a crime scene as she rooted through pockets prior to tossing them in the laundry. Each night as she lay in bed, she quietly picked up the bedroom receiver and listened to see if he was using the downstairs extension. She went even further than that. Every night she dialed the weather number before he came home, then, in the morning she hit the redial button. Only once had a different number come up. She’d written it down but hadn’t had the nerve to call it yet.

Paranoid. That’s what she’d become. But who could blame her? Living in uncertainty and dread was taking a toll on her. This week she’d decided to do something about it. Something constructive. Whether Keith was having an affair or not, their marriage was in trouble. She couldn’t do anything about his behavior, but she could do something about her own. She’d bought a marriage book at the Cottage Christian Bookstore and had discovered plenty of things she could improve. Number one on her list was a date night.

And here she sat alone. He’d said he could leave the bank at closing, but where was he? Was work his only mistress, or was there someone else? why couldn’t he just tell her the truth and put her out of her misery? Not knowing was awful.

She dabbed at the corner of her eye with the starchy cloth napkin.
Stop thinking like that before all your makeup runs off your face.
Blinking to clear her vision, she glanced around the busy dining room. No one seemed to have noticed her emotional lapse. She wanted to keep things light tonight, have fun like they used to when they were dating.

Suddenly Keith slipped into the chair across from her, and she choked back the reprimand that formed on her lips

He held out his hand, palm up. “I know. I’m sorry. An emergency came up.” He picked up the menu. “Have you seen these prices?”

Only for about a half hour.
“They’ve always been high.”
And you never complained when we dated.

He closed the menu and sipped the iced tea she’d ordered him. As he brought the glass to his lips, she saw it.

A long black hair hanging from the stark whiteness of his sleeve. She froze. Every muscle, every fiber of her being froze. Except her heart, which throbbed fiercely. She looked at his face as every doubt from the last week seared her memory with the same ferocity as the moment she’d found the condom on the floor.

He noticed. “What?” he asked with annoying innocence.

What? How about, “I found a condom in your pants two weeks ago”? What about, “You’re never at work when I call”? Or, “You have another woman’s hair dangling from your sleeve”?
Her eyes filled with tears again.

“What?” he asked again, this time with a measure of irritation.

The waiter appeared out of nowhere. “Are you ready to order?”

She shifted her gaze to the peach tablecloth and blinked rapidly.

“We need a few minutes,” Keith said.

The waiter disappeared, and she dabbed at her eyes again.

“Do you mind telling me what this is all about? I thought this was supposed to be a nice evening out.”

“That was before I saw
that.”
She gestured to the hair, which now clung to the tablecloth.

He looked down at the table, then his shirt. “What?”

“The hair.” She hated the tremble in her voice.

His gaze found the evidence. He plucked it off “You’re upset about a hair on the tablecloth?” His eyes mocked her.

“It was on your shirt.” She sniffed.

Keith flicked the hair onto the floor, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Have you lost it, Nat? I work in a bank, for crying out loud. There are women who work there, you know. Not to mention the customers.”

She wavered. Was she being overly suspicious? She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Her eyes glazed over, and she felt a sob rise in her chest. She was on the edge of losing it. She covered her mouth.

He cursed, then reached into his wallet and withdrew some bills, flinging them onto the table. Then he threw his napkin down and rose to his feet. “If this is your idea of a good time out, I’d just as soon be at work.”

Every eye in the room except hers seemed to follow him out the door.

“Hey, Hanna,” Devon called from the office door in his typical greeting. “Boats are all locked up for the night. Do you have my shuttle schedule ready?” His gaze dragged down her body, then back up.

She shifted uneasily, then slid the advertising proof back on the desk. “Not yet; just a sec.” She pulled up the page with tomorrow’s reservations. “How did today go?”

“Great except for the tipping incident.”

He’d told Hanna at lunchtime about the three teenage girls who’d tipped over their canoe in the middle of the lake. “They probably did it on purpose, just to get you to rescue them.”

“Nah, they were just fooling around.”

Hanna stared at the reservations calendar. “That’s odd.”

“What’s wrong?”

She got up and leaned her head around the corner to the dining room where Gram was doing a crossword puzzle. “Gram, do you know why there’s fewer rooms booked than there were last night? I’m sure we were full.”

“Yes, honey, we had some cancellations today.”

“Were they part of the same group?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Hanna went back to her desk. Three rooms empty. That meant they’d received three cancellations in one day. Odd. “Well, let’s just hope that doesn’t happen too often.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing to worry about, just a few cancellations. You still have three parties to pick up at the airport.” She wrote down the times and handed him the paper.

“Thanks. See you tomorrow.” He winked.

Hanna looked away from him and studied the calendar. She’d taken two cancellations herself in the last week but had thought nothing of it. The schedule was still pretty full, though.
It’s just a fluke. Nothing to worry about.

Later that day, as she talked with Natalie on the phone, she realized there were plenty of other things to worry about.

“Give me the number. I’ll call it,” Hanna said.

Through the phone she heard Nat sigh. “I don’t know. Part of me is afraid to know for sure.”

After a long pause, Nat agreed. “All right, do it.” She rattled off the number, and Hanna jotted it down.

“I’ll call you right back,” Hanna said, then hung up.

She punched in the number, wondering what she’d say. The number was probably only a friend of Keith’s or something. There was every—

“Hello?”

The voice was female, but she sounded too young to worry about.

“I’m sorry, I probably have the wrong number, but do you know a Keith Coombs?”

She waited for a reply. The pause stretched too long.

“Who is this?” the woman asked.

The question caught Hanna off guard. And made her stomach tighten in a knot. “Do you know Keith?”

There was a noise in the background, a TV maybe. “Don’t call here again.”

The phone clicked in her ear.

Hanna dropped into her chair. That didn’t sound good. Though the woman hardly admitted knowing Keith, she hadn’t denied it either.

She picked up the phone again, this time dreading what she’d have to tell Natalie.

CHAPTER SEVEN