Love Came Unexpectedly

The tall guy from last night stood there…what was his name? His gaze went from her tousled head to her painted toenails, noting where the robe stopped at her knees. Why did he make her feel she was exposing more than she should? Her robe covered more than a pair of shorts did.

“What is it?” She asked rather grumpily. Her temper made her impatient and cranky. Then her training kicked in. She cleared her throat and said more evenly, “May I help you?”

He raised a brow, an amused grin starting to spread.

“I thought since this is your first morning here, you might like to go out to breakfast.”

“Well, I don’t know…um…?” She stumbled for his name. She usually remembered people’s names, but at the moment his mischievous look distracted her.

“Grant.” His smile spread wider.

“Ah, yes. Like the Civil War general.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s the way it was. My granddad is a history buff, and he named me.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” She was interested in spite of his silly grin. No one knew much about her personal history.

“How about breakfast?”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” She was starving. There wasn’t anything in the refrigerator except mustard and ketchup, and the soup from dinner the night before was long gone. She’d have to grocery shop at some time, she knew. “Give me fifteen minutes to get ready.”

She turned, and raced into the bedroom.

“Fifteen minutes?” He called after her. “Most women take that long just to get into the shower.”

She heard him, but she didn’t answer. She’d been trained to take three-minute showers, and two-minute dry-offs. Getting dressed was a matter of grabbing the clothes off the top of the stack in her suitcase.

True to her word, she reappeared in the office in fifteen minutes. She wore jeans, a blue T-shirt, and brown sandals. She’d combed through her wet hair with the speed of lightning, and twisted it up with a large clip. She wore no makeup.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, looking at his watch, then giving her a once-over glance. “Fifteen minutes to the second.”

“I never usually take long,” she said with a note of pride. “But for breakfast, I put a rush on it. Where are we going?”

It didn’t matter a whit. She could eat a cow. Maybe two.

“There’s a place about ten miles that way that’s good.”

She had no idea where “that way” was. She supposed he was safe enough. He escorted her out to the road where a small red pickup was parked.

“Now tell me, where did you get the name Sunny?”

“My mom named me Sunny because she said the day I was born was the sunniest day she’d ever seen,” she said, climbing into the truck. She did know that much, at least.

“What did your dad say to that?” He closed her door, then went around to his side.

Sunny shrugged. “I don’t know. He died before I was born.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Oh, um…that your granddad never said…never knew about you. I guess the communication got lost along the way somewhere.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She didn’t want to discuss it, not with this near stranger. Her emotions were too on edge. “Tell me about the lake and its history.”

“Ah…that’s a tall order.” And a safe one. “All right, here goes. In the thirties, the local utility company built the lake to generate electricity, and since it’s a private concern, that’s why anyone can build right on the lake…”

Grant talked all the way to breakfast. She watched him shift gears at a crossroad, barely glancing to the right and left. Then he talked through breakfast, and she watched his expressive eyes as he told her of the struggles of the utility company to obtain all the land.

At the end of their meal, he slowly wound down. He’d eaten his eggs and sausage, while she nibbled on the last of her toast, having consumed her meal without a word.

“Fascinating,” Sunny said. It was a word she used when she didn’t know what else to say in a given conversation. But she really meant it. The history of the region was fascinating.

“Well, now that you’ve got your tummy full, what are you going to do?”

“Go shopping.”

His mouth drooped. “It figures. I never knew a woman who didn’t want to shop all the stores in an area new to her.”

“I meant for groceries. Where are the nearest grocery stores?”

His face brightened. “Really? Well, your best bet is about two-plus miles at the end of this road. You know, I could do with a bit of grocery shopping myself. Why don’t I take you now? It would be silly to go all the way back to Sunshine Acres only to pick up your car.”

She studied his face. Did he really have nothing better to do?

“What about your resort? Don’t you have riders…er, customers arriving?”

He glanced at his watch. “Not likely today. But it’s early yet. If we shop quickly, I won’t be that late getting back. Besides, I have someone there to take care of anyone that might happen by.”

“Oh, that’s nice. You have an assistant.”

“Yep. His name is Buzz.”

“All right, I suppose. I appreciate the help.”

The grocery store was a small one, but she chose several frozen entrées and lots of fresh vegetables and fruits. Grant settled for coffee and steaks.

On the drive home, Grant talked of his plans for Grant’s Retreat.

“I hope to expand to three trails a day in the summer. It would be great, if I can continue to trail the extended ride through the forest. And in autumn, I plan to host some evening rides. But I just got going before the end of last year…nobody but my family came for rides, practically. Old Nathan has been…was wonderful about waiting for payment while I’m getting started.”

“What do you mean? About my grandfather?”

“He owned the land. Didn’t you know?”

“No.” She watched the ribbon of road twist and turn while he talked.

“Yeah. And then there was a ten-acre partial in the valley that attaches to mine that he had an eye on. It made a solid bridge to mine. He called me as soon as it went on the market. I was able to snap it up.”

“I see.” Childish, unreasoning jealousy welled up inside her. Jealousy and envy over knowing and spending time with Nathan, really knowing her grandfather. How did this stranger rate so fine a treatment from someone who… Nathan was her grandfather? To spend days with him, to hear him talk, to know how he moved, how he went about his work, to know what he liked to eat?

Grant glanced at her, his lashes flickering her way. He spoke more softly. “I guess you do. Nathan…was a fine man. None better.”

They’d reached her place, Grant parking along the road. Sunny wrenched opened the door as soon as he halted the truck.

“Thanks for the breakfast and the grocery run,” she said formally. “I must go now. There’s a lot of papers to read and…other work to do.”

He unloaded her bags and set them by the door, glancing curiously at her face. “All right. I gotta go, too. I’ll be seeing you,” he said in parting.

But Sunny was already searching for her key.

She tried to shake off the feeling as she pushed through her door. It was ridiculous, feeling jealousy. That she hadn’t known her grandfather was no one’s fault—only a fact of life. It couldn’t be helped. She shouldn’t feel jealous…but she did.

She heard the disappearing motor, not paying much attention to Grant’s leaving.

After years of neglect, how could she not feel such…hurt? Her grandfather had been alive during all those years she had struggled, when she had needed family. And she hadn’t known of him.

Pain shafted all the way down to her toes.

Irrational anger raged suddenly, something she’d never experienced before in her life. How could her grandfather have been so close to Grant? Close to a stranger? As though those two were the ones related, and not her. Leaving her out.

Lord, I need Your calming spirit… I don’t know why I feel such rage…and hurt, too. I shouldn’t. It’s so selfish and irrational… I’m an adult now and should be beyond such feelings. Nathan couldn’t have known I even existed before a few months ago, and that’s no fault of his. I guess it’s Mom’s fault, if anyone’s.

With all of her might, she shoved the feelings down. In her mind, she quietly quoted Scripture to accomplish the task, something she’d done since her childhood.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped…” came to her from Psalms.

Never mind. She had work to do.

The phone was ringing, and she didn’t think she’d connected the answering machine before she’d left. She hurriedly set the groceries down, then grabbed the phone.

Someone was calling about rates.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve just begun working here and I can quote you only what this card says….” She listened a moment. “No, Sunshine Acres will be closed until the first of the month due to…” she couldn’t say the words, due to the fact that her grandfather had died.

“A…family problem.” She listened again, hearing a desire to know when Sunshine Acres would be open again, asking someone to call. “I’ll do that.”

Sunny put away the groceries, and then sat at the office desk. She sorted and sifted through the weeks of mail, not knowing exactly what to do with the majority of it. Some she simply put aside to deal with later; confirmations and requests for reservations, she put into a separate stack.

She answered phone calls twice more—people who had heard of the resort’s change in ownership, wanting to know if Sunshine Acres would continue, whether their bookings were still all right. She assured them that if they had made reservations, they would have the cabins in the time they’d requested.

Not knowing where the reservations book was located, she glanced about. Then she went to the computer. It booted up without a problem. She looked at the programs, then went to the e-mail.

Which was a mistake. There were tons of messages.

For the next two hours, she sorted through them, eliminating most, keeping some. Finally, she rose and stretched. She had to get out of the cabin…

Time to visit the guest cabins and see what shape they were in, she thought.

Taking the keys off the hooks, she glanced at them. They were old keys and she hoped they worked.

She pulled her door closed and locked it. Then she strolled down the concrete boat launch to the level of the cabins. There should be a separate path to each cabin from the car park, she thought. But the car park was nothing but a dirt patch of ground, sitting adjacent to the road. There were a few concrete steps to the manager’s cabin, then, on the lower level were the six guest cabins.

All the cabins were alike except for color. None but one of them had basements; the rest were all on stone foundations. She stood in front of the first one, and took a deep breath. She placed the proper key in the front door and swung it wide.

One large room met her gaze; it was much like hers. It contained a strip of kitchen cabinets, old and dated, and a newer stove and refrigerator in white on the wall facing the road. The dining and living room were combined, with a large dining table and chairs taking pride of place in the center of the room. An iron daybed sat in the corner. A huge picture window looked out over the lake, giving a view that took her breath away. A bathroom and two small bedrooms filled with inexpensive furniture completed the cabin.

This was like a cabin of fifty years ago, she thought. Where were the furnace and hot-water tank?

She found those in the closet beside the door.

It seemed clean enough. Nothing had been touched since her grandfather’s passing. But where were the laundry facilities? Was everything sent out?

Each cabin was alike, she discovered, as she wandered from one to the other, the only difference being the furniture that occupied them. The last cabin, built on a higher slope of land, had a lower level, which proved to be a boat storage. It was empty, but she thought it looked as if it had been recently occupied.

Sighing, she closed and locked the last door. There was only one building left to inspect. The huge garage at edge of the road, past which the drive wandered to her cabin, the office.

She stood and gazed at the garage. She decided it could wait for another day because she was exhausted. Everything—her quick response when she’d heard from the lawyer, to making arrangements to take a leave of absence from work, to coming here—everything was catching up to her.

Slowly, she strolled back toward the office. There was enough paperwork to keep her busy for the next two days. What should she do with it all? A number of people held reservations on cabins for stated times and weeks of the summer. Either she had to keep those, or refund the money.

And she hadn’t yet found the ledger, nor any money, and the computer hadn’t revealed a thing. So far she hadn’t found a bank book, either. Oh, hang it. She didn’t even know the banks in this area—something else she’d have to investigate. Surely Nathan kept operating money somewhere.

It was a much bigger problem than she’d imagined.

Oh, Lord, I need help…

Chapter Three

She had to keep the resort open. She had no choice.

Coming to that conclusion sometime through the night, Sunny woke with a set determination. It was only early June; there was the whole summer before her and customers to contend with. Some who had already missed their dates to come wanted their money back, and she had no idea where Nathan kept his accounts.

Perhaps those customers would accept a later date, with added days free, she thought. It was worth a try.

She had to start with this weekend, no matter what. The first thing she had to do was call her supervisor. Would her boss hold her job for a whole year? It wasn’t likely.

She sighed in frustration. What did she know about running a resort? This was her first visit to the lake, for crying out loud!

Yet there were a dozen reservations…

Going through what papers were on the desk and counter, she counted at least a dozen reservations for throughout the summer months. And she’d fielded one phone request yesterday afternoon. The woman was quite disappointed when she found she wasn’t dealing with Nathan Merrill and that she couldn’t be accommodated.

Just yet. Sunny would call her back this morning, she had written down her number.

Sunny rotated her shoulders and stood up to do a few exercises. She bent, knees locked, to touch the floor. Then she swung from side to side, her arms extended.

How hard could it be to take care of six cabins? During her teen years, she’d worked as a nurses’ aide. She’d handled every job thrown at her—including emptying bedpans, changing sheets, mopping floors and making people comfortable. She could do the same here.

Throwing on her clothes, she brushed her hair and then braided it in one long braid. She hadn’t had time to get it cut before she left Minneapolis.

Thinking about the overall problems the resort had—challenges, her mom would’ve called them—she recalled her inspection yesterday.

All the cabins were clean and neat. Who had cleaned them and when? She hadn’t found evidence of anyone who worked for Nathan. No paperwork on payment of cleaning services. Or lawn services, for that matter. The uneven grounds had been neat and trimmed, too.

Well, obviously, someone was employed to do the work. But where would she find their employment records? And the money to pay now?

Until she found out who, and if that service could be continued, she’d have to manage by herself. And where were the lawn mower and other garden tools?

Grant would know.

Grant seemed to know a lot about her grandfather’s resort. She hated to depend on anyone…but he’d said she could ask him whatever she wanted.

Grant hadn’t been around since yesterday morning. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was seven-thirty. Seven-thirty at a resort wasn’t as early as in a busy nurse’s schedule, but maybe at the lake…

She let her hand lie on the old-fashioned phone, and pressed her lips together. Did she dare call him?

Punching in the numbers quickly, she waited while the phone rang. He answered on the fifth ring.

Or rather, someone did. A gravelly male voice answered. “Grant’s Retreat.”

“Oh, um, is Grant there?”

“You bet.”

“Well, may I speak with him?”

“Yep”

She heard a slight scuffling, then a breathless Grant came on. “Hello?”

“Grant?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Hi.” She let her breath of relief out silently. “This is Sunny Merrill.”

A pause, then he said, “Oh, hello. How are you?”

“Fine, just fine.” She hoped she didn’t sound too lame. Then remembering the slight muffled noise, she said, “Did I take you away from something?”

“Ah, no. Nothing important.” It sounded as though he was doing something as he replied, “What can I do for you?”

“Sorry to bother you, but, um, I was wondering…um, if you have time today, would you mind stopping by for a little while?” She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted nothing more to do with her. She’d handled his previous offer badly. “I need a few questions answered, and I’m finding I need—”

“Advice?”

“Answers.”

“What time?”

“It’s seven-thirty-five.”

“No…I mean what time do you want me to stop by?”

“Oh.” It was a good thing he couldn’t see the flush that stained her cheeks. Used to accounting for every minute of her day, she’d reacted with her usual quickness. “Sorry.” She took a deep breath. “Anytime. I mean, I’m here all day.”

“All right. I have a ride this morning to take care of. Almost time for it now, so they’ll be here any minute. But I’ll be through in a couple of hours. Could be at your place close to noon.”

“Thanks, Grant. Noon. I’ll…um, treat you to lunch. I appreciate it.”

By noon, she’d sorted through the last of the mail. She’d found stacks of stuff, some of it from years past, but nothing of importance. Nothing to tell her who she could get to look after her docks and grounds. She’d checked the computer, but found little that told her what she should be looking for. Hadn’t her granddad used it?

She’d found a few messages for Nathan, personal messages that she hadn’t the heart to read just yet. She didn’t erase them, but put them in a separate folder for future reading. Maybe she’d learn something of her grandfather’s personality from them. She supposed those people who had written had been given their own notification about her grandfather’s passing.

Would they be shocked to know of her?

She heard a vehicle pull into the parking lot. The office door opened, and Grant swung through. Was it noon already?

For a moment, she stared at him.

She watched his lean body as he came in. He didn’t look like a cowboy now. His tan shorts stopped above his knees and showed long, tanned, sturdy legs. His short-sleeved polo shirt, with a golf emblem on the pocket, displayed his muscular arms to perfection. His hair lay close to his head, dark with dampness. He looked as though he’d just stepped out of the shower.

After all the teasing she’d received back in Minneapolis from her nursing buddies about going to Missouri for a lake cowboy, she just wished she could point them to Grant now. Or take his picture to send back.

Cowboy indeed!

But he did look mighty fine, and she felt her heart ping in a dangerous way.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “The guests lingered about, wanting to talk and look around. But I can give you all the time you need now. Don’t have an afternoon ride today.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She blinked, and rose. What kind of guests? Single females? Females that appreciated his good looks?

What am I, nuts? Who has time for heart patters when I’m struggling to run this old place? It would only complicate things. Besides, I’m only going to be here a year. I can’t get involved with him when I’m planning to go back to Minneapolis…

“I, um, thank you for coming,” she said. “I’ve made sandwiches for lunch.”

“That’s fine.” He stood with his thumbs hooked in his front pockets. “I’m starved. I didn’t have much for breakfast this morning. Wanted to be ready for my riders.”

“I didn’t, either.” She walked through to the living room, leaving open the office door for him to follow. She shoved her personal thoughts into the back of her mind—I’m not into short-term romances—and attempted to think of business. “Can I fix you an iced tea?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I have it made.”

He took a kitchen chair as she busied herself on the short counter top. He was quiet, watching her fill matching glasses with ice cubes and tea.

Strangely, Grant felt a bit of alertness. Sunny Merrill didn’t like asking for help, he’d noticed. She was uncomfortable with it.

“How’s it been?” he asked by way of opening a subject she had a hard time approaching.

A difficult discussion, to be sure, but it was natural she’d want to know where everything was. Did that include bank accounts? What would she do if she found all of Nathan’s accounts? Take the money and run?

She’s not Heather, a little voice reminded him. She’s entitled to whatever Nathan left her. She could do as she pleased with it all.

He pulled his thoughts back to what she was saying.

“Crazy. I had two calls yesterday to confirm reservations, and one requesting one.” She handled the knife to cut the sandwiches with deft strokes, then put pickle chips on the side of the plates. “I handled them the best I could. But I’ve gone through all the papers and mail on the desk, on the counter, and stuff in the computer. I can’t find how Nathan kept track of anything.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, her braid swinging. “How can you run a resort or keep track of it all, without a log or files or something?”

“Don’t know. Nathan kept a lot of stuff in his head. He has—had—been doing this so long, he didn’t have to write down everything.”

“But that’s loony. How did he do his taxes?”

“Don’t know, but he had someone do them. I expect you’ll find someone in town to answer tax questions.”

She set a triple-decker sandwich in front of him. She put her own sandwich down, then stood by her chair, hesitating.

He glanced up into her eyes. Her gaze softly questioned him. “What?”

She let her tongue moisten the corner of her mouth. “I’d like to say grace before we eat.”

Shock kept him silent for a moment. His family all went to church, and were faithful to their beliefs, but they’d never said grace at meals. He doubted they knew how.

He certainly didn’t.

And he’d thought Sunny like Heather? Such a thing would have been very foreign to Heather’s thinking. Yet saying grace was an easy enough thing to fake—maybe Sunny wouldn’t really know how.

“Okay.” He let his doubt rest.

Sunny sat down slowly, and bowed her head. Her hands were out of sight in her lap. She appeared tense, as though she didn’t want to let another person—him—in on her personal thoughts. Or she didn’t know what to say.

He watched the flutter of her lashes as she sought to form words. Then her voice softened.

“Father, we thank you for this food and the beauty of the day. Thank you for giving me…thank you…for all this bounty and for the many challenges, as well. Help me to meet them successfully. Please bless Mark Larson. Amen.”

She raised her head, but didn’t look at him as she lifted her glass of tea.

“This sandwich is delicious.” He filled the silence with the first thing that came into his mind. She’d surprised him again. The bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich was exactly as he liked it.

But who was Mark Larson? What did he mean to her? Was he someone waiting in the wings? A boyfriend?

“Thank you. I…hope I didn’t…” she spoke quietly, gazing at her plate. Then her lashes swept up, and she looked directly into his eyes, her irises looking more green than brown. “I realize my faith can be awkward for some people. But in my own home, I can’t ignore the need to ask His grace. And for now, this is my home.”