The Inn at Misty Lake: Book Two in the Misty Lake Series by Margaret Standafer Page B

with, you’ve got to be hauling wood in all winter long and, worst of all, you’ve got people who may have never used a fireplace trying to start a fire in their room. You’re going to have embers burning holes in the rugs, smoke filling the house when someone doesn’t do things correctly, and, who knows? You get a couple drinking a bottle of wine or two and deciding they want a little ambiance. Next thing you know the whole place is on fire.”
    “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
    “Not entirely. Do you know how many house fires are the result of fireplaces? A lot. Just let them flip a switch and get almost the same effect.”
    “Okay, I’ll go with gas. I’m letting you win most of the arguments tonight, in case you haven’t noticed.”
    “You’re not letting me win, my side is just the right side. But, thank you. Thank you for not putting up too big a fight. It makes me think we might be able to see this thing through. I was starting to have my doubts.”
    “Not me, I knew we’d make a good team.” Riley coughed over the alarm that bubbled up in his throat, but Susan continued. “Now, you said ‘the last big thing.’ Are there more little things?”
    Riley eyed her carefully, trying to be certain she was just talking about them as a business team and not something more, but couldn’t decipher her expression. He was becoming paranoid, he decided. “Just a few. I think we already agreed the chicken coop is a no-go, right?” When she gave a half-hearted nod, he continued. “Some of the little details I’ll leave to you. I’m not going to help you choose linens and china.”
    “Fair enough. Anything else?”
    “I’m curious about something.” He pulled out his notepad and glanced at it. “The sketches you did for the event center were…interesting. What exactly do you have in mind out there?” They had already discussed some of the basics of the construction, but her sketches had grabbed his interest.
    “I just thought it should have a little of the same feel as the main building. I don’t think it would work to keep a lot of the original feel to the inn and then have some ultra-modern design in the event center, so I was playing around with ideas. I was thinking a bar top of reclaimed wood. I probably didn’t do a very good job of sketching it.”
    “Reclaimed wood. Huh.”
    “Do you think it’s a bad idea? I know granite is popular and I could go that route, but I just was thinking I could sort of design everything around the bar. I’m thinking old, or at least old-looking, brick on some of the walls with some of the original wood exposed, a reclaimed wood floor.”
    Riley was mystified as he responded. “I think it’s a good idea. Strange, though, as I’ve been toying around with the idea of building a bar top from reclaimed wood. I haven’t been able to talk a client into it yet so haven’t been able to try it, but I’ve been itching to.”
    “Seeeee,” Susan deliberately drew out the word while waving her finger back and forth between the two of them. “We’ve got a connection, McCabe.”
    He was afraid she was right. And it scared the hell out of him.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    7
     
     
    All Saturday, while Susan worked with Shauna sorting and sifting, she struggled to keep her mind from wandering. If she wasn’t thinking about her evening with Riley, she was peeking out the window hoping to catch a glimpse of the lonely looking puppy she’d spotted nosing around the dumpster.
    Shauna was in heaven and kept Susan hopping. She quickly got down to business and established three rigid categories: garbage (get rid of it now), potentially useful but not valuable (I’ll leave it up to you to decide what to do with it), and treasure (don’t you dare get rid of it). She ruthlessly assigned every item to one of the categories and surprised Susan more than once when an item Susan had been sure would be headed for the garbage pile elicited oohs and ahhs and was