snow.
“Did you have to park here?” Andrea complained, opening the passenger door and staring down at the snow.
“Yes. All the regular spaces were full. Slide across and get out my side. There’s less snow over here.”
As Andrea slid over, Hannah thought about the lineage of the Lake Eden Inn. The original building had been in the Laughlin family for five generations. Built in the late nineteenth century, Dick’s great-great-grandfather had spared no expense to build his summer retreat. Franklin Edward Laughlin, a lesser-known iron ore magnate, had packed up his family, his staff, and any friends who wished to spend a few months at the lakeshore, and they’d all traveled by carriage to the forty-room mansion he’d modestly called “Lake Eden Cottage.”
“This place is practically a monument to Dicks’ great-great-grandfather, isn’t it?” Andrea climbed out and led the way up the long winding path to the entrance of the inn.
“That’s what I’ve always thought,” Hannah agreed. F.E. Laughlin must have regarded his summer home as his personal edifice, because he’d established a fund to be used solely for upkeep on the property. The “cottage,” in pristine condition but never modernized, had passed from oldest son to oldest son until Dick had inherited it four years ago. F.E.’s iron ore fortune had been passed along, too, as part of the legacy, but it hadn’t fared as well. By the time Dick had inherited “Lake Eden Cottage,” the family coffers were very nearly depleted.
Hannah gazed around her as they walked past Dick’s topiary. His evergreen shrubs were growing nicely, and all of the animals were recognizable. The lion’s mane still wasn’t full enough, but a season’s growth would take care of that. The squirrel, with its bushy tail was taking shape, and the bear looked great. It was standing on its hind legs and was already five feet tall.
Dick and Sally had been living in Minneapolis when he’d inherited the inn. They’d come out to look at the property, fallen in love with the place, and moved to Lake Eden the next week. They’d been forced to borrow heavily to install electricity, indoor plumbing, and a modern kitchen with restaurant-sized appliances, but that gamble was paying off. Last year, Dick and Sally had been fully booked for the entire season, and the Lake Eden Inn was finally showing a profit.
“Something sure smells good,” Andrea said, as they climbed the wooden steps and pushed open the front door.
“Yes, it does.” Hannah began to smile as she stepped into the huge lobby with its massive wooden beams and gigantic rock fireplace. The scent in the air was mouth-watering. It was tantalizingly spicy, and under the spice she could detect a hint of chocolate. It had to be Sally’s Chicken Mole, one of her favorite dishes.
“Come on, Andrea. Let’s head for the bar.” Hannah set off at a fast pace for the wood-paneled bar that also served as the dining room. “If the buffet is still out, I’ll treat you to lunch.”
Chapter Seven
The moment they entered the bar, Hannah spotted Sally Laughlin. She was hard to miss with her bright orange maternity top. The Laughlins’s first child would be born in January, and Sally was sitting on a barstool with her feet elevated on a neighboring stool. The buffet table was still out, and Hannah turned to Andrea. “Just wait until you taste Sally’s Chicken Mole. It’s fantastic.”
“I’ve never even heard of Chicken Mole before. What is it?”
“It’s Mexican cuisine, chicken baked in a dark chocolate sauce with lots of spices.”
“Chicken and chocolate?” Andrea shuddered. “That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
“But it is. Just try it and see.” Hannah bit back a grin. She should have remembered that Andrea wasn’t very adventuresome when it came to food. Last Thanksgiving, Hannah had added red bell peppers and water chestnuts to the turkey stuffing, and Andrea had refused to try it.
“Come on,
“Did you have to park here?” Andrea complained, opening the passenger door and staring down at the snow.
“Yes. All the regular spaces were full. Slide across and get out my side. There’s less snow over here.”
As Andrea slid over, Hannah thought about the lineage of the Lake Eden Inn. The original building had been in the Laughlin family for five generations. Built in the late nineteenth century, Dick’s great-great-grandfather had spared no expense to build his summer retreat. Franklin Edward Laughlin, a lesser-known iron ore magnate, had packed up his family, his staff, and any friends who wished to spend a few months at the lakeshore, and they’d all traveled by carriage to the forty-room mansion he’d modestly called “Lake Eden Cottage.”
“This place is practically a monument to Dicks’ great-great-grandfather, isn’t it?” Andrea climbed out and led the way up the long winding path to the entrance of the inn.
“That’s what I’ve always thought,” Hannah agreed. F.E. Laughlin must have regarded his summer home as his personal edifice, because he’d established a fund to be used solely for upkeep on the property. The “cottage,” in pristine condition but never modernized, had passed from oldest son to oldest son until Dick had inherited it four years ago. F.E.’s iron ore fortune had been passed along, too, as part of the legacy, but it hadn’t fared as well. By the time Dick had inherited “Lake Eden Cottage,” the family coffers were very nearly depleted.
Hannah gazed around her as they walked past Dick’s topiary. His evergreen shrubs were growing nicely, and all of the animals were recognizable. The lion’s mane still wasn’t full enough, but a season’s growth would take care of that. The squirrel, with its bushy tail was taking shape, and the bear looked great. It was standing on its hind legs and was already five feet tall.
Dick and Sally had been living in Minneapolis when he’d inherited the inn. They’d come out to look at the property, fallen in love with the place, and moved to Lake Eden the next week. They’d been forced to borrow heavily to install electricity, indoor plumbing, and a modern kitchen with restaurant-sized appliances, but that gamble was paying off. Last year, Dick and Sally had been fully booked for the entire season, and the Lake Eden Inn was finally showing a profit.
“Something sure smells good,” Andrea said, as they climbed the wooden steps and pushed open the front door.
“Yes, it does.” Hannah began to smile as she stepped into the huge lobby with its massive wooden beams and gigantic rock fireplace. The scent in the air was mouth-watering. It was tantalizingly spicy, and under the spice she could detect a hint of chocolate. It had to be Sally’s Chicken Mole, one of her favorite dishes.
“Come on, Andrea. Let’s head for the bar.” Hannah set off at a fast pace for the wood-paneled bar that also served as the dining room. “If the buffet is still out, I’ll treat you to lunch.”
Chapter Seven
The moment they entered the bar, Hannah spotted Sally Laughlin. She was hard to miss with her bright orange maternity top. The Laughlins’s first child would be born in January, and Sally was sitting on a barstool with her feet elevated on a neighboring stool. The buffet table was still out, and Hannah turned to Andrea. “Just wait until you taste Sally’s Chicken Mole. It’s fantastic.”
“I’ve never even heard of Chicken Mole before. What is it?”
“It’s Mexican cuisine, chicken baked in a dark chocolate sauce with lots of spices.”
“Chicken and chocolate?” Andrea shuddered. “That doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
“But it is. Just try it and see.” Hannah bit back a grin. She should have remembered that Andrea wasn’t very adventuresome when it came to food. Last Thanksgiving, Hannah had added red bell peppers and water chestnuts to the turkey stuffing, and Andrea had refused to try it.
“Come on,
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