Celebrations and Confetti At Cedarwood Lodge. Rebecca Raisin

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       Contents

       Cover

       Blurb

       Praise

Book List

       Title Page

Copyright

       Author Bio

       Acknowledgement

       Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Endpages

       About the Publisher

Chapter One

      Staring up at the imposing structure with its weathered facade, I had a terrible premonition that I’d made a mistake. A huge one. But, I reasoned, clawing back rising panic, I had always wanted to buy the hundred-year-old abandoned lodge. It had been put up for sale recently, and I’d jumped at the chance. The old place had good sturdy bones; it was solid, despite the desertion of its caretakers aeons ago.

      Even though I’d always dreamed about owning Cedarwood Lodge I hadn’t expected for it to happen so soon. But it had, and I’d fallen madly in love with the place as it stood, shutters broken, doors in need of paint, ivy creeping through broken panes of glass, and cascading roses growing wild and free around the porch balustrades. Here was a place untouched for decades and I had a chance to bring it back to its former glory.

      The September sky shifted from foggy wisps of gray to country blue as dawn arrived in the small New Hampshire town of Evergreen. A sputtering car swung into the long, winding driveway and I turned to watch my oldest friend Micah leap from his battered hatchback.

      We’d been best friends since childhood, and though we’d drifted apart as adults he was the first person I called when I bought Cedarwood Lodge – I offered him the job of maintenance manager which he’d accepted with a ‘Hell yeah.’

      “You look exactly the same, Micah,” I said, reaching up for a hug. ‘You haven’t aged a bit.” He’d filled out, no longer the lanky teenager I’d left behind, but aside from that he was the same old Micah with the same affable smile.

      “It’s the daily hikes up the bluff. That thin mountain air does wonders for my skin.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I almost fell over when you called. Lucky for you I was between jobs…”

      “Lucky for me, all right.”

      I couldn’t believe it’d been so long – when was the last time we had properly caught up, five years ago, six? Time ticked by so fast while I’d been away.

      “You’re different,” he said, gesturing to my outfit and my usual flyaway curls restrained with a clip. “A little more polished.”

      I grinned. “Denim cut offs and messy hair didn’t quite cut it in Manhattan.”

      “What? Crazy city folk.” He clucked his tongue.

      “Right?” I joked. “How’s Veronica?” I expected him to gush about his long-term girlfriend. Instead, his lips turned down for the briefest second, before he masked it with a smile.

      “Veronica? There’s a blast from the past. I haven’t seen her for two and a bit years now. She was like you, Clio, left town and didn’t look back.”

      Surprise knocked me sideways that she’d left town, left Micah.

      “Sorry, Micah. I thought…” Way to go, Clio!

      He touched my shoulder, giving me time to wrench the metaphorical foot from my mouth. “It’s OK.” He let out a half laugh. “One day she just decided that this place was too small for her big dreams. This town, it isn’t for everyone.”

      An awkward silence hung between us. What kind of friend had I been to him? If I’d have known I would have come home for a visit to comfort him, make sure he was OK. Shame colored my cheeks, and in reality, I realized if he had called me I probably would have played the too busy card.

      I knew Micah inside out, and sensed he was downplaying the split. I could see by the set of his jaw that the conversation was closed. A part of me deflated – if they couldn’t make it, what hope did any of us have? They’d been the perfect couple.

      I tried desperately to think of a subject that would get us back on an even keel. “Look at that view, Micah. Tell me I’m not imagining it – this place is magical, right?”

      “Magic to its very core.” He flashed a grin, reminding me of the playful guy he was in high school. The one who transcended cliques and was friends with everyone. “And soon you’ll have the banging of hammers and the whine of drills to contend with, so soak up the serenity while you can.”

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