Love Came Unexpectedly. Ruth Scofield

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      She didn’t look like old Nathan much. But kids didn’t often look like their grandparents, did they?

      Where had she been all this time? he wondered for the hundredth time. Yet he knew. They’d found her in Minneapolis. She worked in private practice as a charge nurse, she was twenty-six years old and she lived alone.

      That didn’t really answer his question.

      But true to predictions, she’d come flying down to the Ozarks as soon as she heard about her inheritance. Oh, she’d driven in today, not flown. But she’d come, all the same, in a hurry. And now, what irked him to the hilt was that she’d contacted a real estate person right from the get-go.

      Yet she had to contact Mr. Windom, the lawyer, at some point, didn’t she? To collect the keys and pick up whatever else there was to pick up?

      They turned toward the docks, so Grant put the motor down and casually strolled to docks’ end. He watched a jet ski come in, way too fast, sending waves rippling his way to rock the wooden dock. This was usually a rather quiet cove, more filled with fishermen, isolated on the land side by a gravel road through huge stone cliffs and uncharted timber.

      They didn’t get many jet skis or water skiers here. Their clientele was quieter. People—customers—often came in by boat; the old gravel road took longer.

      He listened as one voice grew more distinct. The Realtor’s. He tipped his head, listening.

      “The docks are your best asset,” Jim said. “They are in good shape and you have a lift that works. Someone has been seeing to these things. Now if you put a little money into the cabins, I can get you top dollar.”

      “I’ll think about it,” she said.

      She spoke in a rich contralto, a soft voice that had enough charm to easily lull bees and bunnies. It buzzed along Grant’s nerve ends like rich dark honey, and he realized it could lull him, too, if he wasn’t careful.

      “Willis can do anything you want done. He’s reliable.”

      “I appreciate your coming all the way out here with me, to see the place, Mr. Lindberg.” She spoke smoothly, as though she was used to dealing with high pressure. “But I’m just not ready to make up my mind. The lawyer told me I needed to live here a year to inherit and I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. I have a job I have to decide about, too, you know, and I’ve hardly had time to assess anything yet. Or evaluate it.”

      Determinedly, Grant thought he might as well get it over with and meet the new owner. He had to do it sometime. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to let Lindberg know he was around.

      He moved toward them. Casually, as though he had nothing more on his mind than meeting his new neighbor.

      “Hi there, Grant,” Jim turned at his approach and spoke in his bright voice, apparently not at all surprised to see him. “Going fishing this evening?”

      “Hi, Jim. Nah, just checking my motor. Needs cleaning. Too hot to go fishing anyway. Though I may take a dip.”

      “Grant, I’d like you to meet old Nathan’s, um, granddaughter, the new owner of Sunshine Acres. Sunny Merrill.”

      Grant let his gaze swing her way; he wanted to look directly at her. He wanted to see her face at closer range. He wanted to see if she was really as pretty as she seemed.

      Her cheeks were high and pale with little makeup, with a wide, barely lipsticked mouth. Her eyes were hazel, as he recalled her grandmother’s being, a soft green-brown color.

      His gaze settled on her mouth. She had the wide shape of Nathan’s mouth. Startled at the knowledge, he barely registered the tired lines around her eyes.

      He remained silent. Then realizing she expected him to say something, he spoke.

      “Hi. Grant Prentiss.” He held out his hand and she reached to meet it. Her fingers were firm beneath the soft skin. “I own Grant’s Retreat.”

      At her blank stare, he added, thumbing over his shoulder, “I’m your next-door neighbor. It’s a riding stable. I’ve only been up and running this last year, and your granddad helped me get underway. In fact, he sold me the land. I, uh…I really appreciated his help along the way.”

      “That’s nice.” She said it automatically. Without meaning.

      Well, of course. She’d have no attachment to old Nathan. Not like he did. It meant nothing that Nathan—

      He shut down his thoughts. That way led to disaster. He’d better leave it alone.

      “Well, I guess you’ll let me know,” Jim said reluctantly, as though if he let her go without a firm commitment, he would lose a sale. “In any case, I want to welcome you to the Ozarks and the lake. After you get settled in, maybe we could have lunch one day next week.”

      “Perhaps.”

      “Okay, then. Just come by or call. I’m usually around.” Jim walked down the dock and then disappeared up the stairs and over the horizon.

      Grant was glad to see him go.

      Quiet reigned. Grant tried not to stare at her, but he was losing the battle.

      He drew a deep breath. “I guess you’ll want to look around. I know this place as well as I know my own. Grew up coming here, summers. I can point out…”

      Her eyes were glazing over. “Um, want me to guide you?”

      There was a tightening to her lips.

      “Mmm… I don’t think I need you, thank you. I’ll just find my own way about. Mr. Lindberg says the owner’s cabin is the gray one?”

      “That’s right.”

      “I’ll have a look at that. And maybe find a bed.”

      They walked off the docks and up the concrete stairs. The noise of the jet ski had faded, and the place was filled with only the sighing of the wind and the chattering of the birds. Silent without guests. Peaceful.

      “Have you ever been down to the Lake of the Ozarks before?” Grant asked.

      “No. I’ve heard about it, of course. Some of my patients have talked about vacationing somewhere on the lake. I seldom paid attention because I’ve always been so busy. Never thought I’d be in the position of owning a resort, though. It’s quite large, isn’t it?”

      “The resort or the lake?”

      “Um, both, I guess.”

      “Oh, yeah,” he answered slowly. “Okay. Um, the Acres consists of about forty acres, with a lease on more of the timber.” He swung an arm up, pointing to the timbered hills. “There’s about forty-eight acres of timber, too rough to do a lot with, edging my land.”

      “That’s very nice.” She said it as though he were talking of the moon.

      “Not too many isolated places like this one left. This is one of the reasons this property is so valuable.”

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