Hard Evidence (14 page)

T
hey’d missed church last Sunday because Rylie’s leg was still more comfortable if propped up on pillows, and she had trouble maneuvering her cast. Today Janna was determined to make it.

Claire had muttered something about going along. Then she’d refused to get ready this morning and hadn’t even come out of her room—probably preferring to wait until Janna and Rylie left for town.

Janna had little doubt that Claire felt awkward and embarrassed over her revelations last night, though she’d probably never admit it, even to herself.

Rylie, bless her heart, had been happy to go, even though the Sunday school program was on summer hiatus until after Labor Day. Janna helped her out of the truck, then handed her the pair of crutches.

Immediately, a cluster of kids broke away from the small crowd standing by the front steps of the church. They formed an awed circle around her, asking about her cast. Pastor Lindsberg strolled over as well, followed by Janna’s old friends Maria and Betsy.

“We heard on the scanner about the search party for Rylie,” he said. “We also heard it being canceled, or I’m sure a lot of us would have been on our way out to help.”

Janna smiled. Wade had said that the locals listened to their scanners these days, and apparently he was right. “Michael and his son found her. She was just up the trail a ways but hurt her ankle and couldn’t make it back.”

Maria frowned at Rylie. “If I’d known, I would have brought you supper or something. You should have called!”

Being back in this warm and welcoming environment at church could almost help Janna forget her other problems, at least for a while. “We managed.”

The pastor clapped Janna on the shoulder. “I’d better go get ready inside. Wonderful to see you again.”

Maria glanced around, then bent closer and lowered her voice. “Is everything all right out at your place?”

“Of course. I’m making good progress on the cabins, and we should be ready to start advertising soon. This past week I hired Lauren Young to help out part-time. She’s doing great.”

“I meant with your mother,” Marie whispered. “My cousin saw her arguing with a deputy on the side of the road a couple weeks ago. He said she was positively livid.”

“Someone had sabotaged her two front tires. But—” Janna hesitated “—she’d also started going out of town on the wrong highway.”

Maria shrugged. “Maybe she was going somewhere else.”

“I don’t think so.” Janna fingered the extra sets of vehicle keys that she’d dropped into her pocket on her way out the door this morning. “I try to keep an eye on her.”

“There’s some talk going around town. I’m not one to gossip, you understand.” Betsy bit her lower lip. “But some people don’t like the idea of that lodge opening up again. I overheard Lowell Haskins and Bobby Jay Miller myself, and I wouldn’t want to meet either one of them in a dark alley. There are others, too.”

Janna stilled. “Who?”

Maria and Betsy exchanged glances, then Maria nervously smoothed the collar of her blouse and looked away. “There was a table of people at the café,” she said. “They were all saying how they hated seeing Claire McAllister make a success of something else. They seemed to hold quite a grudge against her, though I don’t know why.”

“But it’s me, not my mother this time,” Janna protested. “It’s my business.”

“A couple of them…um—” Betsy’s cheeks flamed “—talked about financial problems and suspicious accidents out at Snow Canyon.”

Marie made a face. “And about something fishy going on with the books. You know we don’t believe a word of it. But why would anyone start rumors like that?”

“I wish I knew.” Janna sighed. “Though now I understand why the local septic companies aren’t returning my calls. And with just two of them around, I don’t have much choice.”

Betsy frowned. “My uncle Earl owns Kraemer Septic & Backhoe. He hasn’t called you back?”

Janna managed a weak smile. “Not yet.”

“He isn’t one who pays any attention to gossip, but I do know he’s gotten way behind since his partner retired.” She hiked a thumb toward a balding, portly man talking to an elderly couple. “That’s him. I’ll introduce you after church.”

The bells in the steeple started tolling, and everyone began moving toward the open front doors.

Maria winked. “Believe me, she’ll have that man at your doorstep on Monday, apologizing for the delay. Our Betsy has turned into a force to be reckoned with in these parts!”

“It’s my blackberry pie,” Betsy clarified with a grin. “Prayer and a slice of that pie can work miracles—in that order.”

It wasn’t just Earl who appeared at the lodge on Monday morning. He arrived with a flat bed tractor, flatbed trailer and a backhoe, and was soon joined by a county inspector named Ken Weatherby.

They both walked the area around the upper cabins for a good hour with clipboards in hand. Measured and conferred, scratched their heads, then walked off the area again and did some more figuring.

Janna watched them for a while, then went to the lodge to check on Rylie and Claire. By the time she made it back up the hill, the inspector was climbing into his truck.

Both men were frowning.

She looked between them. “What’s up?”

“The system up here is old—really old—and it conforms with few of the current regulations,” Earl said. “We’re going to start with an eight-foot profile hole to study soil type and depth, so we can check current or recent high-groundwater levels. Once we get that information, we’ll go from there.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

Earl lifted a shoulder. “If it isn’t done right, the system won’t work for any length of time, and you could contaminate your water supplies.”

“And if the groundwater levels aren’t okay?”

“You’re looking at an elevated leach bed. Possibly a pump, but you’d have to hire an engineer for that.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “More money.”

The inspector nodded. “You’ve also got an infestation of noxious weeds back here—non-native plants.”

“But it’s essentially wilderness!”

“Noxious weeds, all the same. Gotta control them, or the fines can run fifty dollars a day. State law.”

She suddenly felt faint. “A
day?
”

The man’s bushy eyebrows drew together and his mouth tightened. “Earl has a carbon copy of my preliminary report. The county’s weed-and-pest control people will be coming out, and they can show you what to do. They can loan you the right equipment and sell you chemicals at a discount. Fines start if you don’t meet the deadline they set.”

“Oh.” She blinked and belatedly remembered to close her mouth. This, on top of everything else?

The man started up his truck and drove away, leaving her staring at Earl. “This has
not
been my day.”

“Work has to be done, I’m afraid, unless you want to bulldoze these last four cabins. And you’ll have to deal with those weeds no matter what. So, should I go ahead?”

Numbly she nodded and accepted the papers he handed her. She glanced through them with a feeling of doom. What in the world were diffuse knapweed, leafy spurge, or purple loosestrife? And exactly how hard would it be to get rid of them?

“I’d best get to work on that hole. If all goes well, I’ll get your septic system done by the end of this week or next.” He winked at her. “You got yourself one tough inspector, but don’t you worry none about me. I’ll be as fair as anyone in the county. I’d have to answer to my niece Betsy, otherwise.”

“Weeds.” Michael looked over the top rim of his sunglasses at her, then turned back to tightening the last screw on a door hinge in Cabin Three. “All that for weeds?”

Janna nodded glumly, obviously crestfallen as she watched the departure of an SUV emblazoned with the county’s insignia. “The weed people figured it out per acre and type of herbicide. Even with using their equipment and buying discounted chemicals from the county, I’m looking at over five hundred dollars. Hiring professionals to do it would cost four times that. It isn’t a choice, either. It’s a state law, because these non-native weeds are apparently taking over habitat from the plants we do want.”

Michael whistled.

“The inspectors will be back in a month to make sure I’ve complied.” She brightened. “But the good news—the
really
good news today—was hearing about the septic field. The inspector evaluated the hole that Earl dug on Monday. We’ve got a green light, and it won’t be nearly as expensive as Earl first thought. He’ll start tomorrow, since his equipment is still here.” She seemed to catch herself, then she laughed aloud. “Believe me, I never imagined myself quite this elated over a septic field.”

For two years he’d nursed his wounds, struggling with Elise’s offhand dismissal of their marriage and her refusal to even discuss counseling or reconciliation. He’d always honored their marriage vows, even when she’d blithely ignored her own.

In the end, her death had driven home the point more painfully than anything else. He’d failed her, and he’d failed himself. Since then, the thought of ever attempting another relationship had made his blood run cold. Until now.

The time he’d spent here at Snow Canyon Lodge had slowly changed that. Inexorably. He’d watched Janna face challenges and not give up, watched her loving care of her daughter and her patience with the irascible woman who was her mother, though he had yet to see the old woman show the slightest hint of affection in return.

And now, despite the fact that she was facing even more problems, there was a sparkle of joy in her eyes that completely captured his heart. He grinned at her, feeling as if his world had taken a dizzying spin in a new direction, to a place where happiness might just be a possibility.

“Feel like celebrating?” he teased.

“Absolutely.” She thought for a minute, then rested the fingertips of one hand at her throat. “Wow! I could go start on Cabin Nine!”

“Or maybe we could go out to dinner.” He held his breath, unaware that he’d done so until she finally looked up and their eyes met.

“I…”

His heart skipped a beat.

“I…I would like that, Michael.” A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Very much. But I can’t leave Rylie and my mother here alone, and Lauren isn’t here today. I’m so sorry.”

“Ian could stay with them.”

She wavered, searching his face. “I could try calling Lauren. I’m not sure Ian would like playing babysitter.”

“He’s seventeen, so he could handle things for a few hours. Especially if I paid him.”

She hesitated only a moment longer. “Okay, but only if we aren’t late. Eight or nine? With everything that’s happened here…”

He smiled. “The steak house is just on the other side of town. I’ll have you back in a couple of hours—well before dark. Deal?”

“Deal.” She glanced down at her muddied shorts and old tennis shoes and cried out in dismay. “Give me twenty minutes, or the manager of that place won’t even let me in.”

Michael’s amusement faded as he watched her jog toward the lodge, her pretty blond hair swinging with every step.

He’d courted his late wife with plays. The symphony. Quiet candlelit dinners and strolls on the beach. Intelligent and charming, Elise had always loved dressing in pearls and high heels, with flirty little black dresses that showed off her pretty figure. She’d even agreed to start going to church with him—for a while, anyway, before she’d found herself too busy.

A perfect woman, a perfect courtship.

He’d done everything he could to please her, yet it had never been enough. Their marriage had ended up like dust beneath his feet.

Maybe this time, he could get it right.

But even as he headed back to his cabin to change clothes, his uncertainty grew.

Ian walked into the lodge, a portfolio under his arm, and found Rylie in the dining room, a five-hundred-piece puzzle spread out on one of the tables, her crutches leaning against the wall behind her.

He’d first started stopping by out of guilt for what had happened when he’d left her behind up on the trail. After that, he’d just kept dropping in because he felt sorry for her. It had to be awful, being cooped up in the lodge without much to do.

Now he could almost imagine her as a little sister, with her giggles and smiles, and her obvious adoration of him when he coached her on her drawing or took the time to play a few board games with her. Spiders frightened her, and he’d apparently even risen to hero status yesterday, after escorting a couple of big ones outside.

“I saw your mom and my dad on the porch,” he said. “I guess they’re going out for a steak or something. I think they’re celebrating about a sewer.” He rolled his eyes. “Sounds gross to me.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “Me, too. Mom left macaroni and cheese and chocolate cake, if you’d like some. Those are my favorites.”

He warily glanced around the room. “What about your grandma?”

“She didn’t want to go to town. She already ate and now she’s probably reading in her room. She doesn’t like to come out here much.”

Rylie led the way into the kitchen at a good clip, swinging along on her crutches. Ian helped her pull a casserole dish of macaroni and cheese out of the oven.

They’d just settled down to platefuls of it at a small table in the kitchen when a cheery voice shouted out a hello.
Lauren?

Ian’s heart fell to someplace in the vicinity of his ankles. Great. The perky Miss Young had just turned up. Just what he needed.

He’d avoided her for a whole week, still embarrassed over the day she’d seen all of his ugly scars and had turned away in disgust.

He took a self-conscious glance at his clothes—a hoodie sweatshirt and jeans—then snorted at himself. Why should he care what anyone thought?

Rylie called out to Lauren and she popped into the kitchen a second later, smiling happily until her eyes settled on Ian, then skated away. She faltered to a stop. “There was a call—on our answering machine. I thought—”

“Mom didn’t hear back, so she asked Ian,” Rylie chirped. “But that’s cool. Now we can all play Monopoly or something!”