Rosewood (Walker Family Series Book 5) by Lauren Gilley

Author:Lauren Gilley [Gilley, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romance, Contemporary Fiction
Amazon: B00HBSIFNI
Published: 2013-12-13T18:30:00+00:00

Eventually, the road leveled out, and the pines came crowding up along the shoulders, a dark tunnel of branches that blotted out Jess’s window-watching.

“Not far now,” Chris said, and the truck slowed; he clicked the blinker on.

Jess sat up straighter, pulling her feet up under her on the seat. “Really?” She heard the breathless catch to her voice and caught him flick a glance in her direction, smiling at her excitement. “Where’s the turnoff?”

“Right here.”

And then she saw it. It wasn’t paved. Her excitement dimmed. Don’t jump to conclusions, she told herself. Your driveway didn’t used to be paved either.

Chris steered them down a narrow, rutted drive that reminded her a whole lot of the inn’s when she’d first bought it. Branches slapped across the windshield, most of them hazy with cobwebs.

“It’s been a while since Dad’s been up here,” Chris explained before the left front tire caught a dip that sent them slamming against their seatbelts. Jess heard their bags go tumbling in the backseat. “Not since that storm.”

She grabbed the handhold in the door to steady herself against the bouncing. “What storm?”

They rolled through a puddle the color of…something she’d rather not think about.

“That real bad freak thunderstorm a few days ago? Yeah, he meant to get up here, but he caught that cold, and then…well, you know how old people say they’re ‘busy’ all the time.”

“So it’s been empty for how long?”

“Few months, maybe. But Dad keeps the place super clean. It’s that whole Marine thing, ya know?”

“Yeah…”

The truck jostled through an ungodly rut, and then they emerged from the trees amid a dark little glen floored with moss and dark, slippery stones. The autumn leaves were piled in yellow drifts, still clinging to branches in places, bright little flags of color. Slanted bars of sunlight fell through the branches. And the cabin…

“Oh my God!”

Chris stomped on the brake and the truck lurched to a halt. “Holy shit,” he said in a shocked, flat voice.

The cabin was built of rustic dark logs with a cedar shingle roof, a little cozy front porch with rocking chairs marking the front door. It had a stacked stone chimney and gingham curtains hanging in the windows.

And a dead pine tree embedded in it.

Jess felt every last drop of anticipation leave her system in a flood of shaking nerves. A rush of hormones brought tears up the back of her throat that she choked down. She took a deep breath. “Chris, baby,” she said slowly. “Has there always been a tree in the living room?”

In a matching tone, he said, “That’s the bedroom, actually.”

“Perfect.”

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