The Secret of Elk Horn Lodge by Judith Hudson

Author:Judith Hudson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Judith Hudson
Published: 2021-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

First thing the next morning, Tia got up and went back to The Emporium despite my entreaties to stay for coffee. And cereal. I had embarrassingly little else to offer. An hour later I followed her into town for my shift. She worked with me in the store for most of the morning. A night out seemed to have done her good. I had to admit, I had slept better with someone else in the house, too.

That evening, I was on my way out to Grandad’s shop when I met Martin outside the kitchen door. Lucy was instantly all over him, wagging and shimmying with delight. He took a minute to pat her down. He was still in his work clothes, so I figured he had come straight from the office. No particular reason, he said. I liked to think we were becoming friends.

“Can you stay for dinner? I have some leftover venison stew. It’s really good.”

“Sorry, I can’t. Previous engagement.”

Right. He probably had a girlfriend. A lawyer would be a catch in a small town like this.

Then he asked hopefully, “Rain check?”

So maybe he was unattached after all. “I can’t promise venison stew, but sure.”

He put his hands in his pants pocket as if he didn’t know what to do with them. He often seemed nervous around me. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Fine. Come and see what I made.” I grabbed his elbow, turned him around, and led him across the grass to the workshop.

“I’ve never been out here,” he said as I found the key. “But I peeked through the window once. Looked like some kind of a shop.”

“It’s Grandad’s workshop.” I said proudly as I opened the door and flicked on the lights.

The big room was rustic, with the barn rafters and a wood floor, but now the tools were all neat and shiny with everything in its place. A small pile of cedar shavings on the workbench where I had planed Grandad’s bench scented the air.

“Wow,” he said.

I smiled and hitched my shoulders. “I’m thrilled. We had a small shop behind my mother’s antique store in Phoenix and I worked there off and on with her repairman. But ours was nothing like this. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found it.”

Martin spotted the cedar bench on the workbench, still held together with big iron clamps, and walked over. “Did you make this?”

“Grandad had already cut out the pieces, but I put it together.” I unscrewed the clamps and together we lifted it to the floor. Then we both sat down.

Martin nodded. “Nice.”

I agreed. “Grandad had scooped out a bit of a profile on the seat and back for comfort.”

“That worked. What are you going to do with it?”

“I want to put it at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the water.”

“Good idea. Want help?”

I jumped up. “Sure. I’ll never turn down an offer to help.”

Cedar is pretty light wood, so it was easy to carry it out to a flat spot six feet back from the edge of the cliff.

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