The Stroke of Winter(33)

Tess had always been a touch superstitious. She didn’t have a firm belief in things otherworldly, but she was the kind of woman who wanted her bases covered, just in case.

She was finishing sweeping the floor when Storm rushed out of the room and down the back stairs, barking. Then she heard the rapping. Someone was at the back door.

Tess made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen and saw Wyatt’s smiling face peering in through the window.

She opened the door to let him in.

“Hi!” she said. She furrowed her brow at him and cocked her head to the side. “Did we have an appointment today? Am I forgetting something?”

Wyatt smiled. “I’m afraid this is an unauthorized stop-by,” he said. “Do you hate that? I was doing a little job down the block and thought I’d come by to talk about the renovations you want to do in the studio. We could talk over lunch?”

Tess didn’t particularly love the idea of people stopping by unannounced, but somehow, this felt okay. More than okay. She smiled back at him.

“Lunch?” she said, glancing at the clock. It was indeed about that time. The morning had flown by. “That sounds great. I haven’t been out to eat anywhere since I got here.”

“The Superior Café is open,” he said. “One of the few places that is open this time of year. They have great food.”

He gave her an expectant grin.

“Why not?” she said. “I didn’t know they were open in the winter. Sounds like fun. Just give me a minute to clean up. The coffee’s hot if you want to pour yourself a cup while you wait. Make yourself at home.”

Wyatt unzipped his parka and pulled off his hat and gloves. “I’ll do that. Thanks!”

Tess skittered up the stairs to her room and hurried over to her closet. She didn’t have time to take a shower, but she’d do what she could. She grabbed a flax-colored fisherman’s-knit sweater and a light denim shirt to wear under it, and a pair of soft—clean—jeans. Wriggling out of the clothes she was wearing and into the fresh outfit took just a minute, and then she was in the bathroom in front of the mirror, chagrined to find a streak of dirt on her forehead. Awesome.

She washed and moisturized her face and applied a little makeup and lip color and brushed her hair. She popped in a pair of earrings and eyed her reflection. Not exactly fit for a night on the town, but an afternoon in sleepy Wharton? She was good to go.

Back in the kitchen, she saw Wyatt placing his cup in the sink. He turned to her and smiled. “You clean up pretty good,” he said.

“Wait until you see me after I’ve actually showered,” she said, pulling on her jacket and boots.

Wyatt laughed out loud.

Tess looked around for Storm, who came trotting into the kitchen. She bent down and scratched behind his ears. “You be a good boy,” she said. “Guard the castle.”

“Oh, he will,” Wyatt said, as Tess pulled the door shut behind them. “You can bank on that.”

The Superior Café sat on the corner of Main and Front Street, just a block off the lake. As they walked in, Tess saw a long bar running the full length of the paneled room, with a fireplace on one end. It reminded her of a lodge in the woods she and Matt had visited before Eli was born. A second area, through French doors, was a sort of sunroom affair, with large windows on three sides. Tess could imagine all these opened on breezy summer days, the cool lake air wafting through. But today, it was warmed by the sun shining in. On such a cold afternoon, it felt like heaven.

A handful of people were enjoying their lunches—Beth St. John from the Just Read It bookstore; the police chief, Nick Stone, and his wife, Kate, who was the cousin of Tess’s friend Simon and helped him run Harrison’s House. There were a few others, whom Tess didn’t recognize. But Wyatt knew everyone.

“You all know Amethyst Bell?” Wyatt asked the room. “She’s renovating La Belle Vie into an inn.”

Hellos, waves, and greetings all around.

Kate pushed herself up from her chair and came over to Tess. “Welcome to the community,” she said, taking Tess’s hands. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch before. Simon is over the moon that you’re here permanently.”

“I am, too,” Tess said.

“How are the renovations going?” Kate asked.

Tess tried to suppress a wince as she thought about the scratching. And the paintings. “Great!” she said, with much more enthusiasm than she felt. “We’re starting on an owner’s suite now, and once that’s done, I’ll be ready to open. I’m hoping to be done with it all by summer.”

“Simon hooked you up with his antiquing mafia, I’m told,” Kate said, chuckling.

“He did,” Tess said. “We found some gorgeous furniture and accent pieces. The main part of the house looks really good. It’s this owner’s suite . . .” Her words stopped in midair. The very thought of transforming her grandfather’s studio into her private lair felt . . . wrong somehow. A desecration. That had been the plan all along, but now she was feeling unsure.

“You’re helping her out with that, I hear?” Kate said, turning her gaze to Wyatt.

“I don’t know how much help I’ve been, but yes,” he said.

A genuine warmth swirled through the air between them.