Cabin by the Lake by Desiree Douglas Page A

completely wrong. He did quickly fall for Vivian. She seemed like the mother he never had. That woman had him pegged from the get-go. Vivian had confronted him in her no-nonsense way; they came to terms with the situation, and accepted each other as-is. He found it extremely refreshing to be taken in at face value and made to feel so quickly a part of Vivian’s life—the kind of acceptance he’d only imagined.
    Lydia waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Mike.”
    “Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?”
    “What do you think about that bathroom upstairs?” she repeated, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
    “Gut job,” they both said in unison, laughing.
    “I’ll run some numbers and see what it would take for the renovation, but I’m thinking the majority of the cost would be labor, and I can take care of that.”
    She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “What’s in it for you, Mike?” she asked directly. She hated feeling suspicious, but things just didn’t add up.
    He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I honestly don’t know, Lydia. I’m still trying to figure things out.”
    She was stunned at the sincerity she saw in his eyes. He looked sad and lost and she had the sudden impulse to take him in her arms and comfort him. Why the sadness? she wondered.
    He shrugged, and chose his words carefully. “I find myself at loose ends right now; sort of at a crossroads in my life, if you will.”
    “Why?” she persisted.
    “Let’s just say I’m reassessing the direction in which I was heading. I’m rethinking all the things that I thought were important in my life.”
    “Such as?”
    “Such as, well, the people in my life. And the value of money and how much it has to do with true happiness.”
    She impulsively reached out and touched his hand. “Do you need money, Mike?” she asked gently.
    He enclosed her small hand in his. What a naïve, sweet person she was! He felt his heart swell at her kind inquiry. He seriously doubted that she had more than a couple hundred dollars to her name, and yet she seemed about to offer him a loan. “Nah, I’m low maintenance,” he said in a joking tone.
    The feel of his hand around hers made her heart race. His touch felt good, solid, protective. She didn’t know what he was going through, but she felt that, whatever it was, he was someone she could trust. She wanted to trust him so badly. She knew she couldn’t count on her judgment—the past was ample proof of that—but every fiber of her being felt drawn to him.
    “It appears so,” she said, nodding toward his bedroll leaning against the wall. “That’s about as low maintenance as you can get.”
    He laughed easily, shaking off his dark thoughts. He seemed to suddenly notice that his hand still covered hers and gave it a final pat. “It was either the sleeping bag on the floor or that couch.” He grimaced at the dusty, floral sofa in front of the fireplace.
    “Sound judgment,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a cozy little mouse nest tucked under those cushions.”
    “Right. But I’m sleeping well at night—clear conscience and all that.” He grinned. “Let’s take a look at the porch.”
    She reluctantly followed him out the front door. She felt that she’d lost a chance at something, that a moment was gone that could have made a difference somehow. Some important opportunity had been missed.
    Outside they examined the railing on the porch and the crosshatch of sticks that formed an intricate pattern beneath. “Lots of these will have to be replaced, but we have plenty of material to choose from,” he said with a wave of his hand, indicating the many surrounding trees. “Whoever built this had patience.”
    Suddenly she remembered something. “Wait, come back in, I’ve got to show you something.”
    He followed her back inside to the fireplace.
    She knelt to the right of it and pressed on a