His Winter Rose. Lois Richer

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СКАЧАТЬ have walked here with you, but I wanted to drop off Harold’s motor.” He hoisted the machine out of his truck bed and stood it against the workshop where Ida’s husband waited beside the birdhouses he’d carved from driftwood.

      They thanked the couple for the meal, wishing them good-night before riding back to the marina. Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Piper couldn’t think of a thing to say.

      “Are you going to be able to get back safely?” Jason asked as he unfastened her boat from its moorings.

      The evening had grown cool and Piper tugged her coat from its hiding place in the hatch of the sailboat. “Oh, yes. I’ll be fine.”

      Jason scanned the sky.

      “There’s a storm blowing in,” he told her. “You could get swamped.”

      She tried to explain that she’d been sailing many times, and had handled her fair share of rough weather, but he refused to listen.

      “I’ll tie your boat behind mine. I’ve got an inboard that can weather anything. It won’t take long to zip across the lake. Besides, I’ll feel a whole lot better if I know for certain that you’re home, dry and safe. The lake water is too cold to capsize in.”

      She couldn’t talk him out of it, and so a few moments later Piper found herself seated beside him in his boat, watching the familiar coastline fly past. Truthfully she enjoyed the feeling of knowing someone cared. It had been a long time. Another thing she’d prayed about and it was still unanswered. Did God want her to remain single?

      Jason asked her questions about her meeting with the guild and she told him some of what she’d learned and how she intended to use it.

      He was obsessive, about the town at least. Well, maybe she could use that to her advantage.

      They arrived in her little cove twenty minutes later, just as the last flicker of light sank behind the jagged cliffs of Paradise Peak. As she peered up through the gloom, Piper could see little of the familiar landmarks because the dock lights hadn’t come on.

      “Will you come up for some coffee?” she invited, once her sailboat was secured.

      “Only if you make it hot chocolate,” Jason said. “After Ida’s high-octane sauce, my stomach will go into convulsions if I add coffee.”

      “Sure.” Funny that his agreement brought such a flush of relief. She’d never worried about coming back late before. Piper led him off the dock and up the path to her home.

      “You need some automatic lights. With all the clouds, it’s quite dark along here. The trees keep out the moonlight.”

      She was suddenly aware of why she’d felt so uneasy. It wasn’t just the dock lights that were out. There were no lights along here, either.

      His hand grazed her shoulder.

      “Piper? What’s wrong?”

      “I do have lights.” She looked up, pointed. “There’s one.”

      “Well, it’s not working.”

      She raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I’d noticed. Thanks.”

      He grinned, then glanced around. “Looks like they’re all out. What do you suppose happened to them?”

      “I have no idea. Fortunately, I’m very familiar with this path.” She turned and began striding along, confidence growing with each step she took. The next moment she was on her knees. “Ow!”

      What was the willow chair her grandmother had always kept on the porch doing here?

      “Whoa!” He was there, grasping her arm, helping her stand, his grip strong, reassuring. “What happened?”

      “My pride just took a beating.” She brushed her palms against her legs, feeling the prick of pebbles that had dug into her skin.

      “Maybe I should lead.” He lifted the chair out of the way.

      “You’ve been here before?” she asked, staring at him.

      “Good point. You lead, I’ll follow. Just go a little slower, okay?”

      “Right.” Embarrassed, she picked her way up the path, her mind busy with the light question. “Maybe a breaker’s flipped or something.”

      “Maybe.”

      When she stumbled again, he took her hand, his warm, strong fingers threading through hers. “Let’s just go slowly, make sure we don’t happen over anything else.”

      At that moment the moon slipped out from between two black clouds and provided just enough light for her to see a shape move through the brush.

      “Do you see him?” she whispered.

      “Who?” He glanced at her. “I can’t really see anything.”

      Then moonlight was gone. So was the shadow. Maybe she’d imagined it. Piper shook her head.

      “Never mind. It’s not far to the house now. This leads to the garden. Once we’re past these roses, we take two steps up onto the deck.” Her eyes were adjusting now, discerning familiar landmarks. “See? There’s the arch into the garden.”

      He probably didn’t need her directing him, but she did it anyway until finally they stood before her door.

      “Now if I can just get the key inside.” She slid it into the lock and twisted, unlocking the door and pushing it open. With one flick of her wrist the house entry and deck were illuminated. “Come on in.”

      She turned on lights as she walked into the house. Thank goodness she’d cleaned up the kitchen this morning.

      “So all the power’s not out. Just those lights.” He raised one eyebrow. “Where’s the breaker box? I’ll check it, if you want.”

      “Thanks.” Piper showed him the panel in the basement, then left him, intending to return to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Halfway up the basement stairs she stopped, taking a second look.

      The old wicker furniture her grandparents had replaced several years ago still sat down here because Piper had hopes of locating someone who would recane the seats and backs. But the furniture had recently been moved, and not by her.

      Someone had been in her house.

      “The breaker was off, all right.” Jason slapped the metal door closed. “If you’ve got a timer, you’ll have to reset.” He stopped speaking, looked at her more closely. “Something else isn’t right?”

      “I’m not sure.” She went back down the stairs, stepped between the two love seats and stared at the thick wooden door she always kept locked. When she tried to open it, the dead bolt held, but she could see faint marks on the wood where it looked as if someone had pried a screwdriver. Had it been done tonight?

      “Where does that door lead to? A secret tunnel?”

      “Kind of. I told you my grandfather was a goldsmith, СКАЧАТЬ