Chapter 1Chapter 1I glared at the mirror of my en-suite bathroom, enhancing the crow’s feet fanning out from my dark grey eyes. A thick tuft of brown hair obscured my view, so I blew it out of my face. “Just this once,” I said, pointing a finger at my own reflection. “Behave yourself. Just this once.”
No reply, of course. There never was one when I really needed it. With a sigh of annoyance I turned away. Heading downstairs, I pushed the cuff of my checkered sleeve back and looked at my watch. Only six am. There were two guests at the Lake House B&B. Neither of them would be up before eight, so I had plenty of time to put some effort into my own breakfast.
On my way past the reception desk, I slowed and glanced at the check-in log. It was still handwritten, even though I did keep records on the computer too these days.
Owen Ashurst, arrival two pm. The booking had been made through the B&B website, not over the phone. But I just knew. I knew. I eased a long breath through pursed lips, hoping it’d settle the squirmy nerves in my belly.
“It’s fine, Nathaniel,” I told myself. “It’s fine.” I wanted to close my eyes and remember all the ways in which Owen and I had been best friends for life. Until life got between us.
I forced myself to walk on toward the kitchen and open the swinging door. Elisa Brown wasn’t in yet, and that suited me fine. I usually didn’t mind her bright and cheerful personality as she did the dishes and restocked the food pantry. But today I wanted a little peace and quiet to ease my whirling mind.
Without giving much thought to what I was doing, I set about making an asparagus and feta cheese omelet, toasted and buttered two slices of bread, roasted a couple of tomatoes and mushrooms, and slid it all on a plate with perfect timing. The old house with the white country kitchen was still quiet. I settled in the seat at the head of the huge wooden table with a sigh of relief. My nerves were ebbing. There was nothing to worry about. Owen was just another guest.
I scooped some egg onto my fork and aimed it at my mouth, when the pan I’d left in the sink rattled. I put the fork down again.
“Gabe, I swear, if you mess with me today I will cover every mirror in this place for an entire month. Don’t think I won’t.”
Silence.
Satisfied, I lifted my fork again. I opened my mouth. The pan gave a tiny rebellious rattle and I was about to say something else, when the door behind me opened. Elisa burst inside in a flurry of snow and…Christmas lights?
“Morning Elisa.” I knew better than to comment, despite the fact that the outside of the Lake House already looked like an exploded Christmas tree.
“Before you say anything, these are for inside. And morning, Nathaniel.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“I could hear you think it from here. It’s time for a Christmas tree in the house again.”
I gave her a long steady look. She shrugged out of the oversized winter coat needed in these Michigan winters. Her curly blonde hair drifted with static around her round, pretty face. “You do remember what happened the last time we had a Christmas tree, don’t you?” I still suspected Gabe, but innocent until proven guilty and all that.
“I do. That was five years ago. I got a fake one, so this one won’t catch fire. It’s still in my trunk.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. “If you’d be so kind.”
Resigned, I shoveled eggs in my mouth as Elisa went to hang her coat away. When she returned she busied herself with tidying up the pots and pans I’d used. I’d feel bad about her cleaning up my mess if it wasn’t her job.
“So still just Anderson and Houzer? No stragglers wandered in last night?”
“No, but we do have a new guest coming in today at two.”
“I saw, yes. Owen something. I freshened up the Bear room yesterday.”
“Actually, I’d like to put him in the Superior room.”
Elisa zeroed in on me like a well-aimed missile and I mournfully stared at my empty plate. I had a vague idea a mouthful of food would come in handy any second n—
Two tiny fists planted themselves on a pair of well-formed hips just inside my field of vision. “Nathaniel O’Donnelly, is there something you have to tell me?”
The B&B had twelve double rooms, and each of them was named after a lake in Michigan. It’d make sense to put Owen in the Bear room because it was down the same hallway as the other guests’ rooms. Efficient, when it came to changing sheets and towels. Conflicting with my plans to keep Owen close to my own room, which was at the opposite end of the large old house.
I rose to my feet and took my plate to the sink, but she grabbed it from me before I could rinse it. She stared at me with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s nothing,” I told her and made a beeline for the walk-in pantry. I made sure to leave the door ajar and she followed me there too. I reached for the fresh eggs and with a put upon sigh, I added, “We used to be friends. I haven’t seen him in twenty-one years so I doubt he’ll remember me.” I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t let the door—” Elisa spun around, but too late. “—close.”
“Shit.” She rattled the handle, then tried the light switch. Nothing.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and held it up to the mirror hidden behind the door, where Elisa sometimes liked to fix her makeup. Before I could say something, she pointed at her reflection and stamped her tiny foot against the tiled floor. “Gabriel Wickfield, you open this door right this second.”
Nothing.
I took a deep breath but Elisa lifted her hand to silence me, just as the light on my phone darkened. I swiped the screen again. She’d pulled a sharpie out of nowhere and put it to the mirror.
“Okay fine, it’s open!”
I saw a flash of blue eyes in the mirror and then nothing, but the lock clicked and Elisa gave me a triumphant smile. She turned back to address our resident ghost. “Behave yourself. Nate’s childhood love is coming today.”
I heard a tiny huff, but still no appearance in the mirror. Then came a soft laugh, the one that had scared the shit out of me twelve years ago when my uncle had left me his slightly worse-for-wear hotel. I was now so used to our ghost, I sometimes forgot to keep him a secret from our guests.
“Elisa…” I complained, but she just turned on the light and sashayed away. “Don’t,” I said to Gabe, “even think about it.”
He appeared in the mirror, impeccable three-piece suit in place as always. His blue eyes twinkled. “Old childhood love?” He rested his chin in his hands and grinned. “Do tell me more.”
“There’s nothing to tell. So don’t you start your matchmaking games.”
“Well, you’ve been telling me for years you’re gay and that you and Elisa will never happen.”
I glared at him. “Then why are you still locking us into tight spaces?”
His grin turned wicked. “Because it’s fun.”
I pointed a finger at him as I reached for the door. “Behave yourself.”
“You guys are going to bore me to death.”
In the kitchen Elisa snorted. “Too late for that, sweetheart.”
I hurried out to join her. I’d spent too much time locked in that pantry already.
“He’s never going to give up,” I told her. For twelve years we’d been stuck with a matchmaking ghost, of all things.
She ran her hand down the curve of her hip and flashed me a coquettish smile. “Well, I am hot stuff, if I say so myself.”
“That you are.” I sidled toward the back door. “He let you out a lot faster than he ever releases me.”
“I have a secret weapon.” She wiggled the sharpie at me, then stuffed it down the front of her blouse.
I eyed her cleavage. “You threatened to draw a penis on all the mirrors?”
Elisa slapped my arm and laughed. “A mustache, oh my God. Where does your mind take you? Also you call him Gabe. He hates that.”
“What good’s a ghost if I can’t annoy him now and again?” A few more steps and I could slide the eggs on the counter and sneak—
“Hold on a minute. We weren’t done talking about your friend Owen. You said he might not remember you, but you obviously have no problem remembering him.” She peered at me, and I didn’t entirely like the glint of compassion in her eyes. “Did you love him?”
I suppressed a sigh because it would give away more than anything I could say, and put the eggs on the counter. Elisa probably knew me better than anyone else left alive, so there was no point lying to her. She’d responded to my wanted ad when I was ready to open the B&B nine years ago, and we’d been best friends ever since. “I was very young and naive. I never told him. He’s probably long married by now and can’t even remember that awkward chubby kid he used to hang out with. It doesn’t matter.”
“It’s a big enough deal that you’re giving him the best room in the house. And the closest one to your bedroom. You never use that room unless you absolutely have to.”
“Just…leave it, okay? If he doesn’t remember me I don’t want you to make a big deal out of it. Like I said, it’s been over twenty years. The last I heard he was in a relationship. I’m just…”
She rolled her eyes. “Feeling nostalgic. I get it. Is he the reason why you never…?” She left the question hanging and I pretended I didn’t understand.
“I need to start cooking breakfast for our guests,” I told her. “But I’ll go get your tree first. Where do you want it?”
For a second I thought she wasn’t going to let it go, but she took a tiny step back and said, “The foyer, I think.”
“Sure thing.” I left the kitchen and stepped into the mudroom where I found a pair of boots and a thick winter coat. Another foot of snow had fallen overnight. I’d have to clear the drive before Owen got here. Or in case one of the other guests wanted to leave. Whatever.
I shook my head. This was no good. I aimed for Elisa’s car and popped the trunk, lifted the giant box with a grunt, and trudged back toward the house. I wasn’t ever going to admit it, but the tree would make the foyer look perfect. It was the scorch marks the last one had left I wasn’t a fan of.
“Mother loving fuck.” I pushed the snow blower across the tracks Elisa’s car had left and nearly skidded on an ice patch. My breath fanned hot into my fleece tube scarf but the icy wind turned it into a frosty wet patch almost immediately. A gust of snow hit my back and snuck under my jacket. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect Gabe.
The driveway to the Lake House was long and winding and it took me a good hour to clear the whole thing. I grumbled at the last couple of feet I had to clear at street level, and then kept grumbling all the way back up the driveway. If only all this sweating and grunting would help reduce my waistline, but no.
In the distance I heard the groan of Michigan Center’s salt trucks and I hoped they’d make it all the way down to Round Lake. It was a beautiful little spot in the summer, but in the winter the only sign there was a lake here at all were the small fishing huts for people who liked to pretend ice fishing was in any way enjoyable.
I liked to fish, sure. On a hot summer’s day. When the temperatures hit the twenties and lower, I wanted to be inside by the fireplace with a pair of thick socks and a good book. And if that made me boring, so be it. There weren’t an awful lot of accidents, but every once in a blue moon there was news of someone going through the ice, and no thank you, sir.
I pushed the snow blower into the barn and locked it away. As I hurried inside and kicked off the ice-covered boots, I pried off my mittens and peered at my watch. The face of it fogged up, but I could read the ten am loud and clear, and groaned. This day was going to take forever.
Usually Elisa made the guest beds, but today I needed to keep my brain occupied or I’d be a mess by the time two o’clock rolled around. For a while I tried to pretend I didn’t care Owen was coming, in case I could actually trick myself into believing it, but I kept sneaking glances at the clocks discreetly positioned throughout all the rooms.
“Gabe, are you actually turning the clocks back? If you are, I’m getting this place exorcised. I’m not kidding.”
No response. The bastard. I unfolded a crisp white sheet with a sharp snap and let it drift down onto the bed. At first I’d thought Mrs. Anderson and Mr. Houzer weren’t acquainted, but this was the second night his bed hadn’t been slept in. Maybe those groaning squeaks last night hadn’t been Gabe’s after all.
I usually went by the philosophy whatever guests got up to was none of my business unless they destroyed property, but people cheating on their spouses always made me want to over-salt their eggs and feed them decaf. I must’ve stomped a little on my way to the next bedroom because the mirror in the narrow hallway shook. I glared at it, but nothing else happened. Even though I knew my guests were out on the B&B’s snowmobiles, I knocked anyway. No answer came, so I pushed the laundry cart into the room, and yeah. Her bed had been slept in, all right. Muttering to myself about cheaters and getting what’s coming to them, I stripped the bed with minimal skin contact, and stuffed the sheets into the cart. I was about to go hunt for dirty towels when the door opened behind me and I startled.
“There you are,” Elisa said. She opened her mouth to say more, took another look at me, and changed track. “Why do you look like you’ve been sucking on a lemon?”
I pointed at the bed. “Slept in.” I pointed at the wall connecting the room to Houzer’s. “Not slept in. Again.”
Elisa gave me a disapproving look. “You’re jumping to conclusions. Be nice.”
I guffawed. “What other conclusion is there to jump to?”
“They’re guests. Paying guests in the low season. They’re not here to be judged by you. Also, Owen Ashurst is on the line.”
My mouth dropped open. “Is he canceling?” I asked. Oh God. I sounded distraught, but it was too late to take it back now. The look of disapproval disappeared from Elisa’s face and she gave me a soft smile.
“He didn’t say. He wants to talk to you, but I guess if he was canceling he’d have just told me.”
“Okay.” I didn’t move.
“Well, get going. He’s waiting.”
“Right.” I had to pry my fingers off the cart.
“I’ll finish up here,” Elisa said. I nodded dumbly, making my feet walk toward the door, the hallway, down the wide staircase covered in plush white carpet, and behind the reception desk.
The light on the phone was blinking, so at least Owen was still there. I lifted the horn and my voice sounded sandpapery when I said, “The Lake House, this is Nathaniel.”
A beat of silence, then, “Nate? Oh thank God. Oh man, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
I blinked hard as my central nervous system jolted me out of my daze. “Owen?” I almost whispered.
A soft throaty laugh tickled my ear and I firmly planted my hand on the cool wood of the desk. “Yeah, of course. You knew it was me, right?”
“I…” Hoped. “Yeah, I thought it might be.”
“Shit.” Another soft laugh. “This is so surreal. I can’t wait to see you. But listen, I’m stuck about ten minutes out. At the Roseland Memorial Gardens? My car just died. I tried calling a tow, but there was no answer.”
“Yeah, Dusty’s probably out salting the roads. He does that in the winter. I’ll come get you. Does your heating still work?”
“No, but I’m fine. I thought about walking—”
“Don’t. The wind shear is below zero. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thanks Nate,” Owen said softly, and every single hair on the back of my neck stood to attention. Shit.
“Sure,” I croaked. “No problem.” I hung up. For a few seconds I stood rooted to the spot. Then I raced up the stairs and almost tripped over the rug on the landing. I shoved the door to the Eerie room open. “Elisa, I need you to go pick up Owen.”
She stuck her head out of the bathroom. “What?”
“His car broke down at the Memorial Gardens. I need you to go pick him up.”
She gave me a disbelieving look. “And what’s stopping you from doing it?”
My hands fluttered involuntarily up in the air and I quickly clasped them behind my back. “I have…a thing.” Oh for fuck’s sake.
Her expression made me feel like I was ten years old. “Man up and go do the rescuing, Nate.”
“But—”
Maybe she saw a wild, untethered look in my eyes, because that was how I felt. Like my sedate, safe little life was about to be rocked off balance. She sighed. “It’ll be fine. You’ll either still love him, or you won’t, and it won’t make an ounce of difference if he’s married. Better just get it out of the way. Now go, before he freezes to death.”
“Shit.” I spun on my heels and made a detour into my room to check I didn’t look too disheveled. As soon as I stepped into my bathroom, Gabe was there.
“Get out of that hideous shirt,” he said, looking at me like he’d smelled something bad. Can ghosts smell? I should ask him some time.
Wait, what?
“What’s wrong with my shirt?” I looked down at the blue and white flannel, and then back up at Gabe. His eyebrows were about to disappear into his neat, gelled hairline, or whatever they used in those days.
He smoothed a hand over his cravat. “Well, there’s nothing right with it,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.
“Your fashion sense is over a century old. What do you know?” So what if his suit always looked perfect? “I don’t have time for this.”
I stepped into my bedroom, rushed for the door, and was hit in the face with a smooth, blue shirt I didn’t even know I owned.
“Wear it!” Gabe yelled from the bathroom.
“Go haunt a cemetery!” I yelled back, and hurried away. I was in my truck in record time, and thanked whatever Gods were watching that Dusty was salting the roads.
I scooted the seat back in my truck since Elisa had driven it yesterday to pick up our groceries. The initial fantasy of showing up in my little convertible lasted as long as it took for the image of being stranded right alongside Owen to take over.
God, I was nervous. I adjusted my rearview mirror.
“He’s probably ugly,” I told my reflection. “And bald. And has two and a half children, and a grumpy cat.” Wouldn’t that make life easier? I shoved the truck into drive and aimed for the Memorial Gardens.
The small road down from the Lake House was a struggle but Dusty had already cleared the rest, so I found Owen in no time. I tried to peer inside as I drove past a stranded Toyota with its blinkers on, but all I saw was a mop of blond hair. Not bald, then.
The cab still hadn’t warmed up, so I left the engine running as I did a U-turn and parked behind Owen. I jumped out of the truck, took a deep, icy breath and straightened my shoulders. The door of the Toyota opened and a long leg folded out, followed by the rest of Owen Ashurst.
Well. Not ugly either, then.
“Oh my God.” Owen pressed his hands to his slightly pink cheeks. “Nate. Look at you. Oh my God.” He laughed that husky laugh of his that’d only deepened over the years, and I felt it reverberate in my bones.
“Owen,” I said, forcing myself to keep moving. “It’s good to see you.” I stretched out my hand but he ignored it and pulled me in for a hug. He was a few inches shorter than me—which was weird—but he smelled exactly the same. A stab of self-consciousness reared its ugly head when my belly pushed against his rock hard front, but I tried not to think about it. Fighting the urge to close my eyes and shove my nose behind his ear, I awkwardly patted his back before freeing myself. He held onto my arms though, and beamed up at me.
“God, you haven’t changed at all. And at the same time, boy, have you changed.”
“That…makes no sense.”
He laughed again, his brown eyes twinkling in the sharp winter sunlight. “It’s so good to see you.”
The knot of nerves in my belly untangled a little. “It’s good to see you too. So do you need a tow? Or I can try to jumpstart you?”
Owen turned toward the car and waved a hand at it in dismissal. “Nah, it’s a rental. They’re picking it up later. I’ll just get my stuff and grab a ride with you.”
“Uh, yes. Sure. Here, let me help.” He popped the trunk and my eyes almost fell out of my head. “Planning an extended stay?”
For the first time his smile seemed a little strained. “Something like that.” Without looking at me again, he lifted two suitcases out of the trunk. I grabbed the other two. We walked toward my truck in silence and dumped the bags on the backseat. I noticed that his fingertips were completely white.
“Anything else in there?”
“Just my laptop bag.”
“I’ll grab it. You climb in.”
The Toyota was freezing inside, and when I tried the key in the ignition, the car didn’t so much as sputter. I grabbed the laptop bag sitting in the passenger seat, checked to make sure nothing else had stayed behind, and wriggled my way back out. I could see Owen in the cab of my truck, fiddling with either the radio or the heat.
Owen Ashurst.
I laughed softly to myself as I trudged through the sludgy snow. I couldn’t believe it.
“So what brings you back here after all these years?” I asked him as I slammed my door shut. The inside was toasty warm now, so I pulled off my hat and gloves and tossed them onto the dashboard. When I glanced at Owen he was giving me a thorough once-over and his eyes were shining again.
“Never did get rid of your baby curls, did you?”
I patted my wayward and static-y hair, refusing to check myself out in the mirror. “Says the guy with the angel mane. Did it stay that white or do you bleach it?” I pulled out from behind Owen’s rental car as he laughed, then settled in to stare at scenery once so familiar to him. It wasn’t that I hadn’t noticed he avoided my questions, but I decided to let them go.
Instead, I looked at my town and wondered how he saw it. Not much had changed, although some effort had gone into renewal and renovation. Patsy’s Ice Cream Parlor had a new front and colorful little doors and shutters that made it look inviting even in the middle of winter. Like a gingerbread house. Modetz—the most inappropriately named funeral home ever to exist—was still in business too. They’d added an overhang to their side entrance so the grieving didn’t have to trudge through snow or rain to get to their cars. The little parking lot that came with the building had been resurfaced, but that was currently covered in snow.
“Barney’s is gone?” Owen suddenly asked, whipping his head around to look at me.
“Ah, yeah.” Burgers at Barney’s had been a rare treat with Owen if I managed to get away from my grandparents’ house. “He finally succumbed. I think he ate nothing but ground meat his whole life. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. His son tried to take over for a while, but he ran the place to the ground. It was a French restaurant for a year or so.”
Owen’s eyebrows rose comically. “French? Here?”
“Yeah. Didn’t last long, obviously. It’s a flower shop now. Pretty nice one too.”
Owen nodded, biting his lip, his eyes not leaving mine until I had to pay attention to the road again. He went back to staring out the window for the rest of the short trip.
I pulled into the long driveway of the Lake House, and tried and failed not to scrutinize Owen for a reaction.
He leaned forward in his seat. “Wow, I can’t say this place looks the same. This is amazing.”
My heart did a pleased little hop and I couldn’t entirely fight down the blush staining my cheeks. “Yeah, I put quite a bit of work into it. My uncle left me a dump, really. It has taken me years while I worked construction jobs at the same time. But here it is.”
Uncle Jack had been a ‘confirmed bachelor’ I hadn’t been allowed to spend any time with. Every once in a while I’d managed to sneak away anyway, and I’d loved his hotel.
My grandparents hadn’t spoken to him for as long as I could remember, so I was shocked when he’d left me the land with the old house on it. By then it’d been empty for years, since Uncle Jack retired when I was twelve and then died when I was only eighteen. It’d taken me three solid years to get the Lake House into shape, but I was proud of it.
Owen undid his safety belt and sat on the edge of his seat. “Look at that.” He gazed out of the window in silence for a bit, and I had no clue what to say. “The brick looks completely different.”
“It was covered in grime and dirt. It’d never been cleaned. I had it sandblasted.”
“But you replaced all the shutters, right? And I can’t see much of the landscaping but all those ugly statues are gone. I mean, this place used to be a perfect example of a house in a Halloween movie, but look at it now. It’s like a fairy tale home.”
I contemplated briefly telling Owen about our ghost, but decided not to. Fingers crossed, Gabe would leave him alone.