The Mighty Quinns: Jamie

“I used to think so. Now it’s just a big, empty house filled with memories.”

Jamie pointed to a small building close to the lake. “Is that a boathouse?”

“No, that’s a guest cabin. It was on the property when we bought it. My husband and I lived there while we were building the lodge.”

“I need a place to stay while I’m building the model,” he said. “Would you consider renting the cabin?”

“I suppose I could. The furnace isn’t working and the plumbing is turned off. But I could probably get it ready. When would you want to move in?”

“Well, I have to get the permits to start building, and that could take a few weeks. But I have to finish before the end of October, or the weather is going to get bad and our investors might get antsy. So I’d probably be back in mid-October?” He laughed. “But I haven’t even seen the point yet. Maybe we should start with that.”

As they walked along the lakeshore, Jamie explained the goals of his company, the need for simple ways to provide housing for the homeless and how lake cottages would help fund their altruistic aims.

Celia listened intently, asking questions along the way. As he explained, her enthusiasm for the project seemed to grow.

Once they arrived at the point, Jamie could tell it would be perfect. Now all they needed to do was come to terms and hope her family didn’t object.

2 (#ulink_355bf160-75da-5bf9-895e-1559e644bb0e)

REGAN FUSSED WITH the folds of the pretty crocheted baby blanket, then stepped back to check the composition of the photo.

A local family had booked her new baby package and she’d spent the afternoon shooting the young couple and their infant daughter. They’d begun outdoors among the bright colors of fall, and now she was finishing up with mother and baby relaxing in a rocking chair in the nursery.

“There,” she whispered. “Now, just turn your head slightly and look out the window.”

Regan focused on the sleeping baby, her gaze taking in the precious details of the little girl’s features—the long lashes, the tiny nose, the Cupid’s bow lips. She swallowed hard as the usual flood of emotion hit her. It always did in moments like these, whenever she was shooting a baby.

After Jake, she’d given up her dreams of a fairy-tale marriage. And she was content with the decision. She couldn’t imagine ever allowing herself to be that vulnerable again. But along with giving up on marriage, she’d also given up on children of her own in the near future. And occasionally that still stung.

Someday, if she still wanted a baby, she’d have one. She didn’t need a husband, though she would have to find someone to donate the genetic material. But how hard could that be?

As she peered through the camera, her mind drifted back to the man she’d met on the road a few weeks ago. Whenever she had a spare moment, she couldn’t help but think about him. He’d been just about the most exciting thing to happen in her life in the past year.

She’d asked around town, a few discreet questions here and there, but no one had heard of any strangers staying in town. She’d thought he might be the new owner of the Hamill cottage, about a quarter mile down the road from her grandmother’s. The place had sold recently and he’d come from that direction. Her grandmother would have known the man if he’d been her new neighbor. She made it a point to acquaint herself with everyone who lived in Pickett Lake.

But it was sometimes best for Regan to keep her personal life to herself. Ceci had a tendency to become too invested in whomever she saw as potential husband material for Regan. The moment Regan showed interest in a man, her grandmother began preparing the guest list for the wedding. No matter how many times she’d explained that she wasn’t planning on ever getting engaged again, Ceci tried to convince her to give love just one more chance.

She snapped off a few more shots of the mother and child, then moved to a new angle, clicking the shutter until she was satisfied she had what she needed. “We’re done,” Regan said. as she placed the lens cap back on her camera.

Amy Farrell slowly stood, taking care not to wake her baby. “Won’t you please give me a peek?”

Regan shook her head, moving around the nursery and searching for items that would make good still-life shots. “No. I never let anyone look. It’s why you hired me. I find the best shots and I’ll make them beautiful. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

Amy smiled. “All right. Well, thank you. And call me when they’re ready. We want to pick one for our Christmas card.”

Amy wandered out of the nursery, her daughter still asleep in her arms, and Regan packed up her things. As she hauled her gear out to her car, she pulled her phone from her jacket pocket.

Her grandmother had called twice over the last few days to invite Regan to dinner. She’d texted her grandmother that she was too busy editing recent wedding shoots, but would come just as soon as she had a free evening.

Though she had a small apartment above her storefront in town, Regan spent about a third of her nights at her grandmother’s. She knew how lonely Ceci got and how much she enjoyed cooking for her, so whenever she had a break from work, she’d make the short drive to the lodge.

Regan usually tried to have dinner with her grandmother at least twice a week, but with her fall wedding schedule and a trip to New York a couple weeks ago for an industry show, it had been nearly three weeks. When she got inside her car, she dialed her grandmother’s number.

She had a few days before she needed to go through the photos from the baby shoot. And the wedding she’d been scheduled to photograph on the weekend had been canceled last month.

Ceci’s voice mail picked up and Regan waited to speak.

“Hi, Nana, it’s Regan. I just wanted to say that I’m finally free for dinner tonight. I just have to make a quick stop at the hardware store to pick up batteries for my camera and then I’ll be right over. Call me back if you need anything from the store and I can grab it. See you soon. Love you.”

Regan turned the car in the direction of the hardware store. She was cutting it close; Walt Murphy closed his doors at exactly 5:00 p.m. and she had three minutes to get the special batteries he carried for her equipment.

She pulled up in front of the store just as he was coming out. “Thank God you’re still open,” she cried.

Walt chuckled and pointed to the door he’d just closed. “We’ll be open at eight tomorrow morning.”

“I just need a few of those cadmium batteries. They don’t carry them at the grocery store and I wanted to get some sunrise shots tomorrow for the fire department calendar.”

“Well, as a volunteer fireman, I suppose I’ll have to make an exception.” Walt reopened the door. “I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to talk to you about your grandmother.”

“My grandmother?”

“Yes,” Walt said, holding the door open for her. “She was in the store a few weeks ago and she happened to meet this stranger named Quinn. He’d stopped by to see me, looking for a piece of land to build on. Next thing I know, she’s offering him Maple Point.”

Regan gasped. “Our Maple Point?”

“Yep. I figured she can’t go leasing or selling land that’s in a trust, but then I found out that piece of land belongs to her. She bought it herself way back when. I was gonna call you, but then I figured it wasn’t my place to butt into family business.”

Regan grabbed the batteries she’d come for and handed Walt enough money to cover the bill. “Thanks for telling me. I appreciate it.”

“If she wants to sell Maple Point, I know I can get her top dollar if she’ll let me list it.”

“She won’t be selling that land,” she assured him.

Regan cursed beneath her breath. Since her grandfather had died, two years ago, her grandmother had been at loose ends. The family had urged Celia to sell the lodge and buy something smaller, but Celia had insisted on keeping it for the family, hoping to recreate those perfect summers of the past, the house packed full of three generations of the Macintosh family.

Since Regan was the only family member living in the area, it had become her responsibility to sort out any problems that Celia had. She had always been close to her grandmother, so it was never a burden. But Celia Macintosh could be stubborn and she was determined to make her own decisions, however cockeyed they might be.

This was definitely a strange turn of events, Regan mused. And if she’d invited a stranger into her life, then it was dangerous, as well. As Regan hurried back to her car, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. But once again, there was no answer at the lodge.

This was her fault! She hadn’t been to see Ceci in three weeks, leaving her vulnerable to someone who might take advantage. If her family found out, there would be hell to pay. If Ceci had already signed some of the land away, Regan would have to get the lawyers involved, and that meant a call to her father.

The sun was already down as she navigated the curves on Shore Drive. Soon the first snowflakes would fall, and in another month, winter would be looming. When the weather changed and the holidays were past, Regan and Ceci headed south to her grandmother’s condo in Scottsdale.

Ceci enjoyed the warm weather and her Arizona friends, and Regan had weddings booked beginning on New Year’s Eve and nearly every weekend through the end of April. On the first of May, they packed up the car and headed back to the lake.

Regan watched for the red reflectors on the trees, and when she saw them she knew the lodge was just ahead. The entrance was marked by two stone pillars, and as she steered her Subaru wagon onto the narrow asphalt drive, her headlights created eerie shadows on the surrounding trees. Ahead, the lodge was lit up from top to bottom, a habit that her grandmother had adopted her first night alone in the house.

The adjustment had been hard on Ceci. Her grandmother had been only seventy-five years old when her husband had died. She’d expected to have more time with the man she’d called her husband since age nineteen. But life didn’t always work out as people dreamed, as Regan had learned all too well.