Sharing Spaces by Nadia Nichols Page B

didn’t know how to show it after all those years of having to be tough. He didn’t know how to love anything anymore. It took that homeless boy to bring your grandfather back to life. It took Charlie to reconnect him to his gentler side, to the part of him that could be emotional, that could care about people, that could love again.”
    He eased his grip. “The admiral was a good man, and that’s all I have to say about that.” He released her and she took a step back, her eyes still wide, still drawing him into that dangerous place. He turned away and climbed the steep ramp toward the lodge.

CHAPTER FIVE
    S ENNA WAS STILL REELING from the vehemence of Jack’s rebuke when he led her through the front door of the lodge, which opened into the spacious living room. The dominant feature was the huge fieldstone chimney, measuring at least six feet deep by ten feet wide, with two fireplaces, one facing the living room, the other facing the dining area, the chimney itself serving as the room divider between the two. The living room was stacked with cardboard boxes and wooden crates, some of which had been opened to reveal their contents. Couches, chairs, framed pictures, tables, lamps, bed frames…everything that was needed to furnish a fishing lodge. The floors, what little she could glimpse of them, were of polished pine, and the windows were large and looked out over the river and the black spruce forest below. The building smelled of pine shavings, cedar, varnish and sawdust, all things fresh and new.
    Jack led her through the maze of boxes, past the fieldstone chimney. “This is the dining room. We assembled that damn table three weeks ago. Took forever. Custom made, seats twenty-four comfortably. We decided on one big table rather than a bunch of little ones. Telling fishing stories at suppertime is mandatory, and it’s easier if the audience is all at the same table.”
    Senna ran her fingers over the satiny wood. “Cherry?”
    â€œTwo pieces of two-hundred-year-old wood, hand-planed and rubbed. Finding chairs that went with it was hard. The Shaker ladder-backs were the closest thing to what the admiral wanted, but they were costly.”
    â€œI’m impressed,” Senna said. In fact, she was awed. The dining room was elegant in its rustic simplicity. Above the table hung a hammered-copper chandelier with a collage of hand-forged fish leaping around its five-foot circumference. It was a magnificent work of art.
    â€œLet’s go into the kitchen. Goody hasn’t seen it all put together yet, though she’s heard all the stories.” Jack tugged her along as he spoke, through the swinging doors at the end of the dining room and into a bright and sparkling space filled with professional equipment any gourmet chef would have coveted. The stove was a big commercial Garland gas range with a griddle, two big ovens, an overhead broiler and eight burners. “Big stove. Big job getting it in here. Four men. Lots of cussing. Look at this.” He strode over to one of three stainless-steel refrigerators and pulled the door open. “Big refrigerators, propane and electric combo. Could fit a whole cow in here. See the dent in the side panel? We dropped this one halfway up the ramp. Lots more cussing.”
    Senna laughed. He was already moving toward a pine-paneled door, opening it. She peeked inside. It was a large pantry, lined with ample shelves. Everything within would be in easy reach and visible, though it was empty now. Jack showed her the baking station, with stainless bins built under the counter that tipped out for access and could hold hundreds of pounds of flour andsugar. The big piece of marble inlaid into the countertop for rolling out pie dough. The deep, stainless double-bay sink with a wide window looking out at river. He pointed at the skylights overhead that allowed better light and ventilation. Work island. Pot racks, hooks empty. No utensils