Love Came Unexpectedly. Ruth Scofield
had been since the death of her grandfather.
She pushed through the door in the middle of the office and found herself in the living quarters. This is where her grandfather had spent his off time.
There wasn’t much to it. A mid-sized room that was a combination kitchen, living room and dining room. A large window let in the dying light. There were a sagging sofa, a couple of dark-shaded lamps, an aged TV and a brand-new kitchen dining set of medium oak.
Along the wall sat shelves of books—years and years of publications, mostly popular fiction.
She strolled over to run her eyes over some titles. Many were from early in the 20th century. Nathan liked Westerns. It figured.
From the living room, a back door led to a modern deck. It had been added in recent years, she concluded, and was set with a variety of chairs. She decided this was where her grandfather had entertained.
Adjacent to the living room were the bathroom and a tiny bedroom, just big enough for a bed, a small chest of drawers and an equally tiny closet.
She found a well-placed wall lamp above the bed, and clean sheets on the bed. How odd…that old Nathan would leave the bed ready for a different occupant.
Or that someone had.
An open book, a Western, lay face down on the bedside table.
A few old clothes still occupied the closet. Were they her grandfather’s clothes? They must be. Had he worn this old shirt? She touched it, a faded brown plaid, and took it from its hook. It was clean but wrinkled.
She held it to her nose. It smelled of laundry soap and the breeze that had dried it.
Unexpected tears welled up, and she buried her face in the rumpled shirt. Where had they come from? She held the shirt away again. The tears rolled down her cheeks.
She had never known her grandfather.
“Oh, mercy. This won’t do.” She hadn’t expected them at all, and she swiped at them with the back of her hand. How she wished she’d had a chance to meet her grandfather. If she’d known…
But she hadn’t. She’d been told about her father, Johnny Merrill, and how Alison, her mom, had loved him. She had heard all about their runaway romance, and how Johnny’d died in an accident before Sunny was born. Her gentle mother had been heartbroken.
Her mom had spoken of him with lingering affection and love in the days of Sunny’s growing up, but they’d lived from hand to mouth. Alison never told Sunny anything about Johnny’s parents.
What her mom had said was that there were no living relatives. Sunny had assumed they were all gone, like Mom, now, to cancer, and her mother’s parents, to a heart attack and an accident. Like her dad.
She sighed. Alison had died when Sunny was twelve. Sunny had finished her growing up in foster families, some better than others. But she’d been blessed beyond reason when she’d finally fallen in with the Larsons at almost fifteen.
They’d helped her grow to womanhood and Sunny visited them now every week, along with their current crop of foster kids. She especially loved little Lori.
Well, this was her inheritance. She sniffed back her tears and straightened. After the inspection, she had intended to go back to town to a motel and to have a good dinner. She’d driven since early morning, from Minneapolis, and she was exhausted.
But that was changed now. She’d sleep here. She put the shirt back in the closet.
Sunny set about unloading her car. It was almost dark, and she turned on all the lights in the cabin as she traipsed back and forth carrying her things inside. There wasn’t much; she had packed for only a couple of weeks. She’d planned to stay only until she could understand where she stood with all this.
But the lawyer said she had to live here a year…
She wouldn’t think of that now. There were immediate things that demanded attention. The stack of bills she’d spied on the desk and counter, for one.
Bills made her comfortable. After all, she’d been paying them since she’d turned sixteen, and at twenty-six she felt comfortable and disciplined taking care of them. She’d worked steadily, first as a nurses’ aide, then at anything she could find while she went to school. She’d been in fast food, first a fry girl, then a waitress, moving from one restaurant up to another where the tips were better. She’d saved every penny she could to go to school. She still owed on college loans, but she was paying them off a little at a time.
First thing tomorrow, after she’d made an inventory of the entire place, she would know where she was with it all. She’d never lived outside a city before, and the idea began to make inroads on her mind.
Only squirrels could be heard…and the lapping of the lake. Crickets began their song. The dark outside was vast and enclosed everything.
She hurriedly locked her car, then went inside the cabin and locked the outside door. There, that was better. She checked all the windows, finding two unlocked.
“Imagine, leaving the place so vulnerable,” she mumbled aloud, thinking of thieves and rapists and murderers. She turned each lock with precise care.
There were no shades on the office windows; anyone out there could see into the cabin. Biting her lip, she closed the door connecting the office and living quarters. Tight and cozy at last, she finally sank into a kitchen chair.
It was quiet.
Jumping up, she switched on the television. There was a big satellite dish by the side of the cabin. Reception…
…was minimal.
She flipped from channel to channel, but there wasn’t enough to catch her attention. She sighed her disappointment and turned it off. She might as well see what was in the cupboard. A can of soup would do for dinner.
She found several. Tomato, beef barley, vegetable. She had a choice.
The refrigerator switched on, sounding loud in the silence. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Oh, I’m being silly,” she said aloud. “This is mine now. I’ll get used to it, won’t I, Granddad? I can even learn to fish if I want to, and go boating. And when I sell the place, I’ll pay off my school loans and help the Larsons…”
She laughed at herself. If her granddad were alive, would he think her crazy for talking to herself?
Most people would. It would be better to think of that Grant guy to get herself in the proper frame of mind. She imagined herself recounting her adventures to the Larsons. Grant was good-looking enough to appeal to most females—and he wore a cowboy hat.
Yeah, he sure was good-looking. And he had great eyes, though they stared at her with suspicion. Never mind. She just wasn’t interested in dark-headed cowboys right now. She had more important concerns about her future, not romance.
Chapter Two
She woke suddenly. For half a moment, she was confused about where she was. A whispering drifted from her half sleep, seeping away as she woke. What had she heard?
She lay silently, listening for something…
A motor boat, far away, made her aware of where she was—a place completely different from her apartment or the busy hospital or doctor’s office she knew.
Faint light sifted around the edges of the curtains. It was morning? Time to get up and going on the day. She had so much to do she hardly knew where to start.
Jumping from the bed, she padded to open the door to the office. Her quick inspection of the kitchen the night before hadn’t unearthed a coffeepot, so she’d have to make do with the one she’d spied on the metal file cabinet in the office. She suspected it was kept there to supply guests when they stopped by.
The office was full of light, though the sun was just beginning to send rays through the front