The House on Creek Road

“Pretty much business as usual, then.”

“But more so. Pam’s bursting to see you. She says she’ll be around to help with the sorting and packing when work allows.” Tom’s wife taught grade five at the local school. Half the teachers there were at least distantly related to the Robbs. “I suppose you’ll still be in the house for part of the winter, Grandma? Need some firewood?”

“Thank you, but I’m all set. Jack brought me a good load last week. It should be enough with what I have left from last year.”

Tom’s cheerful mood was gone, just like that. “What’s Jack McKinnon doing bringing you wood? I’ve always brought you wood.”

“You’ve been so good about it, but look at all you have to do.”

“Bringing you firewood has never been a problem—”

Bella and Dora stopped scrutinizing each forkful traveling from Liz’s plate to her mouth and ambled to the door, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. More company? Liz hadn’t even washed before coming downstairs. There was a light tapping on the door, and then Emily stepped into the kitchen, beaming. Liz’s chair scraped back, and she hurried to her cousin, reaching for a hug.

“You finally, finally came home!” Emily said. “How long can you stay?”

“A week. Maybe two.”

“Not longer?”

Eleanor brought another plate from the cupboard. “I’m sure it will be two. We need at least that much time to get the work done. We’re starting with the furniture today, Emily, if you’re interested. Thomas, would you pour your cousin some tea?”

“Thanks, Grandma.” The dogs followed Emily to her chair. “No, Bella, no matter what you might think, and no matter what happened last time, I’m not going to give you my breakfast. Is that your car in the driveway, Liz, with the big dent? Don’t tell me you hit a deer.”

“She tried her best,” Tom said, “but all she got was a rock. There’s not much point hitting a rock.”

“I swerved to avoid a car and the deer came out of nowhere. You’d think it had transported in—”

“Transported?” Eleanor didn’t watch much television.

“Like in a sci-fi program,” Liz explained. “Beamed from one spot to another…the idea is, they break you down into atoms and reassemble you at your destination.”

Eleanor grimaced. “I don’t think I’d like that. Although I wouldn’t mind a shorter trip to Winnipeg, especially in the winter—and I suppose you could drop in and out of here more often, Elizabeth.”

“And we all could have made it to Susannah’s wedding,” Tom added.

“Oh, could you believe she did that?” Emily asked. “Marry a guy like Alexander Blake in the middle of the badlands when we’d stopped thinking she’d ever get married at all, and not wait for me? I’m afraid my telegram turned into a bit of a lecture—”

This time there was no knock, and no warning from the dogs. Susannah’s father stepped into the house as if he owned it. He was tall and tanned, with graying hair cut very short. A pale band of skin just below his hairline showed where his cap usually sat, pulled down low to shade his eyes.

“There she is!” He took Liz’s face between two large hands and kissed the top of her head loudly. “Looking like a million bucks, as usual. Got all your dad’s beauty and your mother’s brains.”

Liz smiled. It was a long-time claim. “Hi, Uncle Will.”

“And Emily. Look at the two of you. All we’re missing is Susannah. Shove over, Tom.” Will squeezed into a chair next to his nephew. “Got some coffee, Mom?”

Eleanor set a jar of instant on the table. “I bought a special kind for Elizabeth.”

“Hazelnut Heaven? Sounds like a lady’s drink to me…I suppose I’ll still get my caffeine, though, won’t I?” Will smiled at Liz. “Quite a dent on that little Cavalier out there. Brand-new car, too. Reminds me of when you were learning to drive. I kept telling you to aim for the road— Oh, well, why change now?” He stirred a heaping spoon of coffee crystals into a mug of hot water his mother placed in front of him, then flinched when the smell of hazelnuts hit his nostrils. “Did you get the extra insurance?”

Liz nodded. She’d checked the rental agreement before bed.

“Always get the insurance. Otherwise, something goes wrong, you’re on the hook for the whole thing. I’ll take the car back for you—” He raised one hand to stop Liz’s protest. “I’m going into the city on Saturday anyway. I’ll settle everything, take the bus back. They won’t give me any trouble.”

“Uncle Will—”

Tom spoke under cover of their uncle’s confident voice. “Give up, Liz.”

“I’ll need a car—”

“You can use Grandma’s. It’s old, but it’s in good shape.”

“We’re all set then,” Will said with satisfaction. “So, angel, here’s the thing. Your aunt wants you to stay with us for a while. How about it? You can use Sue’s old room and keep us company.”

“I’ve come to help Grandma, Uncle Will.”

“How about over Christmas? I’m sure Sue’ll be finished at her quarry by then. Of course, it won’t be quite the same, will it? She’ll have Alex with her.” He frowned into his cup. “The way they got married, in such a hurry, with no family— It’s been tough on your aunt. She saved a picture of the perfect wedding cake from some magazine twenty-odd years ago and she was heartbroken not to have the chance to make it.”

Tom spooned a big dollop of raspberry preserves on a second waffle. “If they’d waited one measly day we could have got to Alberta in time. Would one day have made such a difference?”

“That’s what I said,” Will agreed.

Liz tried to defend her cousin, although she’d been disappointed to miss the wedding, too. “There aren’t all that many flights to the Gobi Desert.”

“Trust you to be in favor of a rushed marriage, Liz. What is it with you and eloping, anyway—” Tom broke off when Eleanor made a warning sound. With a guilty glance at his grandmother, he apologized.

Liz forced a smile. “That’s okay. I did elope. It’s no secret.”

“And everybody was very happy for you,” Will declared, “no matter what they said at the time.”

Emily jumped up. “Let’s get the dishes cleared away, Liz. Then we’ll take a look at the furniture. My mother’s hoping for that cabinet radio, Grandma.”

Eleanor tapped the table. “Settle down and enjoy your breakfast, Emily. Your cousin isn’t a child with a short attention span. You can’t distract her that easily. And you, Elizabeth, I’m sorry to say it, but you bring it on yourself. If you’d transport in here more often, people would be done commenting on that episode of your life.”

Episode. Liz smiled weakly. It was beginning to look as if two weeks would be more than she could handle. At this point, two days was in question.

JACK SCOOPED SOIL INTO a specimen jar and twisted the lid tight. Eleanor’s field looked promising. Coming through the woods he’d noticed a few small conifers growing in the shade of the poplars…if nature was already beginning to diversify the deciduous forest, it just might be willing to accept a push from him. He should know for sure in a week or two. So far it had never taken longer than that for the provincial lab to fax the test results.

He yawned and stretched. He’d been awake most of the night, his mind ricocheting between Reid, who had somehow found a way into his house, and the granddaughter with the spicy hair. Cinnamon, with darker strands, like cloves. She smelled like Christmas. She shouldn’t. People who refused to visit their grandmothers for as long as she had should smell like Scrooge—all dust and cigars.

In the middle of the field he used a trowel to dig a small hole so he could get another sample from deeper down, where the trees’ roots would be looking for nourishment. He was hoping for a slightly acidic soil, the kind white spruce and balsam firs preferred. Balsams were a safe bet to grow. They were always popular because of their thick growth and festive smell and because they hung on to their needles longer than some trees. The more sparsely branched spruce he liked for old times’ sake. It was the kind he and his uncle had always decorated.

When he straightened from collecting the second sample he noticed a figure coming across the field. A female figure. Tall and slender, with light curly hair tousled by the breeze. Elizabeth Robb. She was heading right for him. Striding toward him, in fact. Barely arrived after an absence of fifteen years, Eleanor’s granddaughter had spotted a trespasser, and she wanted to do something about it. Jack waited, surprised how glad he was to see her.

She stopped a couple of yards away. Even at that distance he was sure he caught a whiff of cinnamon. Maybe she wore cinnamon perfume. Was there such a thing? If there wasn’t, his nose was hallucinating.

After a guarded greeting, she said, “I didn’t expect to see anyone way out here.”

“There never is anybody.” Usually he could walk for half the day without seeing a single person. It was one of the things he liked about country living.