Black Creek Burning (The Black Creek Series, Book 1) (4 page)

Quarter-sawn oak would be a perfect match to the furniture that waited patiently in
storage. In his mind, he could see the three-panel doors, the base and window trim.
He planned on small, protruding corbels to mark the corners of the doors and windows.
Beams would intersect each other along the ceiling, and a few shelves inlaid into
the walls would showcase antique pottery. He took down the dimensions for each and
moved to the master bath, where he measured for tile and decided on a separate shower
and tub.

"Anyone home?"

At the sound of the visitor, Goldie howled and rolled over in his scramble for the
door. Downstairs working on puzzles, Duncan and Andy howled, too. Two boys and a dog
ran to her, all three of them nearly knocking her over.

"Be careful with her, boys. She's not nineteen anymore." He felt a sense of calm blanket
him as he yelled down the stairs and headed for his mother.

Mackenzie Reed wrapped a tiny, but strong arm around each boy. She was barely more
than five feet tall, with brown hair the color of her grandchildren's, showing streaks
of gray. Her eyes, however, were a sky blue color that matched Nathan's. She was in
her early fifties and looked more like her early forties.

"I'll have you know your father and I just returned from a long weekend in a tree
house hotel. You are as old as you think you are, and I think I'll be nineteen for
today." She gave each boy a noisy kiss on the top of their heads. "How are my favorite
grandkids?"

"We're your only grandkids, Grandma." Duncan smiled, keeping his eyes closed with
both arms wrapped around her narrow waist.

As Nathan reached her, he kissed her cheek. "Oregon was it?" he asked as he absently
turned to lead Goldie out the front door and hooked him to the leash on the porch.

His mother walked with the boys to the grubby dining room. "Yes, Oregon. When are
you going to let us take these boys out for a trip? Just a short one. Maybe Niagara
Falls."

She pulled out a washcloth from a plastic baggie and started wiping down the card
table and chairs the two boys and he were using as their kitchen table.

Nathan rummaged through the picnic basket his mother had set on the floor. "We just
got here, Ma." He turned and wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his cheek
on the top of her head. "It's good to be back. We need you. I need you."

* * *

In the mudroom off the garage, she knocked snow from her boots, then hung up her coat.
Shaking the snow from her hair, Brie thought of the family that, from the look of
the overflowing truck bed, must be moving into the old farmhouse. She wondered why
anyone would buy that place, let alone a family, dog and all. Was the dad really planning
to fly through the icy creek to save her from her ferocious dog? She laughed as she
looked at Macey. The adolescent retriever was curled up on her oval braided rug, biting
tiny snowballs from between her toes. She rubbed her dog's ears and mussed her light-brown
head.

"Come on, girl. Let's get us something to eat."

She stopped in the doorway of the mudroom and looked out to the open layout of the
home she'd grown up in. Large archways separated most of the rooms with the exception
of the library and formal sitting room. The hardwood and ceramic floors had the same
flat finish they always had. The only change she'd made was carpet in the family room.

The quiet was deafening.

For her, this home still meant two noisy older brothers, a squealing sister and parents
that were either scolding them or laughing with them—sometimes both within the same
breath. Being already married with their own homes, her siblings inherited trust funds
and bonds. She inherited the house.

Her salary was small, even with the growing landscaping business she maintained on
the side. She probably should have saved some of the insurance money from the fire
to help her with the upkeep of such a large home and help pay the taxes. But she had
a need to restore the house to its original state, right down to the oval braided
rug Macey lazily stood up from.

Rolling her shoulders, she grabbed an apple and headed for the bag of dog food, and
then a shower.

* * *

Her hair was still damp when Brie signaled for Macey to stay on the concrete porch
as she knocked on her next-door neighbor's door.

Mrs. Melbourne peeked through the beveled glass. "Who is it?" Her quick, gruff voice
was a stark contrast to her elegant appearance. She was a slender woman with silver
hair curling just above her shoulders.

Without giving Brie time to answer, she opened the door. The house was femininely
decorated with floral printed wallpaper and large rugs covering hardwood floors. It
smelled of lavender potpourri. "Well come in if you have to, Brianna. I was just about
to see Ethel out. Go on to the kitchen. I've been baking." She handed a check to her
housekeeper. "Did you dust the baseboards, Ethel? I can't stand dust on the baseboards."

Ethel was in her late forties with deep lines around her eyes. She had salt and pepper
hair that didn't move an inch from its bun as she shook her head. "I do the baseboards
on Tuesdays, Lucy. You're just mad because I won in Canasta." Her voice was easy and
southern-touched. "This here is Friday. Do I need to get out the contract again?"

Ethel let out a huff as her plump behind followed her to the door. "If you want to
add a third day, you just let me know. I left fresh coffee in the pot and your favorite
cups and saucers on the counter. Good night, Lucy, and good luck, Brie. She's in an
especially grand mood today."

"A third day? Do I look like a rich old widow? I can hardly afford two days for what
she charges."

The kitchen was scattered with vases of artificial flowers, decorative canisters and
crystal bowls. Without waiting for her consent, Lucy poured two cups of coffee. She'd
known Lucy all her life.

"Oh, Mother. You could afford to have Ethel here every day of the week," Lucy's daughter
walked in the front door as Ethel left. "In fact, you could afford to hire Ethel to
live here if you weren't so stingy." Walking into the kitchen on four-inch designer
heels, the tall, thin blonde made her way directly to her. "I'm thankful you put up
with her, Brie," she said and kissed Brie on each cheek.

"Ethel made coffee, MollyAnne. I'll pour since my help left at such an inconvenient
time. I know you like yours black, Brianna." Lucy handed Brie a cup and saucer.

"I brought cookies." Brie pulled up a stool next to her.

"Are they the kind with those Christmas sprinkles you always bring over when you're
trying to soften me up before telling me you're going to have that loud party until
all hours of the night again?" Her eyebrows lifted high as she peered inside the cookie
tin and took out one on top.

Molly let out an overtly loud sigh and turned to her mother. "With as soundly as you
sleep, you wouldn't even know there was a get-together if she didn't come over here
to tell you beforehand. Don't pay attention to her, Brie. She has no appreciation
for tradition. I think it's wonderful you continue to invite your parents' friends
and the neighborhood over for a very tasteful celebration of the coming New Year.
I know I wouldn't miss it. I'm bringing a date." Molly winked as her mother straightened
up.

"Of course, I'm the last one to know. Ungrateful child." Lucy slowly lifted her chin.
"Is it the Logan I so detest?"

"No, Mother. This one's name is Roger. Roger Swindley. I met him on my last buying
trip."

"I don't know how you call shopping a job, and for fancy clothes even." Lucy closed
her eyes a little longer than a blink as she took a bite of the cookie. "In my day,
shopping was something you did to take care of your home and your children. It looks
like I'm not getting any grandchildren out of you anytime soon. Brianna, when are
you going to marry that firefighter and pass on those genius genes of yours to some
babies of your own?"

She shifted in her chair. "They're not exactly
genius
genes. I'm just good at taking tests and—"

"I wouldn't call testing out of high school in two years," Molly interrupted, "and
a full-ride to med school just any tests, Brie dear. No one thinks badly of you for
turning down your career in medicine." Molly smiled at her as she added another scoop
of sugar to her cup.

"Regardless of my genius or not-so-genius genes, Brian broke it off." There. She said
it.

"Hmm." Molly ran her forefinger across her chin. "Such a waste of a great ass." Molly
grinned at her as they both suppressed a laugh. Lucy looked like she was going to
blow a gasket. "Speaking of tradition, your sister should be here soon. It's the last
day of school before break, and by the looks of that other tin of cookies, it seems
like you still need to get across the street and bribe Mr. Piper into using his home
for the party babysitters."

* * *

Mikey's was a favorite spot for a good burger and kicking back. The seats were nicked
and set too closely together. The air held scents of grilled meat and grease. There
were plaques and photos of years of local softball tournaments mingled with yellowing
newspaper articles about the pub that were laminated and pinned to dark-paneled walls.
Large posters with the Giants' and the Jets' game schedules covered the wall closest
to the flip-up counter that gave an entrance to behind the bar.

"I say to you for the second time today, Brie, spill. Why is Dr. Tyman meeting with
you and leaving you messages?" Their waiter brought them a first round of beer and
buffalo wings. The two were the kind of friends only sisters could be—unconditional.
Liz supported her when she'd changed college majors after two years, putting her on
a six-year graduation plan. She put up with her neurotic need to have everything replaced
in their parents' house just as it was before the fire, right down to the single bathroom
upstairs for all five bedrooms to share.

Brie plopped her chin in one hand on the table. "She wants me to team up with her
to vertically align the district math curriculum with a focus on common vocabulary."

"Ugh. Sorry I asked. So, she wants you to
team up
to work at no extra pay on a project that will make her look good. What else is new?"
Liz folded her hands neatly on the table.

"Not every administrator is out for number one, Liz-the-union-rep." She grinned. "Besides,
I offered. Really, Liz, I don't mind. I have time after school until spring hits.
Brian broke up with me this morning," she added, trying a subject change.

Liz stared into her eyes clearly analyzing. With a touch of humor, Liz asked, "This
morning? Don't tell me you were in bed when he broke it off."

"Pretty much, but I guess that part isn't such a big deal since he called me 'ice.'
Although the comment didn't have anything to do with the bed." She stopped and placed
her other hand under her chin with the first one. "At least I don't think it did.
Oh, hell." She took a sip of her beer and grabbed another wing.

"Bastard. He spent how many years of his life trying to get you to date him, and he
doesn't even make it six months. Did he really say 'ice'? Bastard." Liz sat back in
the hard wooden bench. "Are you still inviting him to the house for New Year's Eve?
It would be a waste for us not to be able to at least look at that great ass."

They both laughed until their sides hurt.

"I sort of already did. You know, before. And if I'd known everyone thought his ass
was so great, I may not have let him go."

"Yes, you would have."

Brie froze just before her next bite of buffalo wing touched her lips. Her eyes drew
up to her sister's.

"I'm sorry," Liz said. "I didn't mean it. Well, I did mean it, but who cares? I just
don't like seeing you alone so much. Brian's a great guy. In fact, you always date
great guys. Oh, wait, except Doug. He really was a bastard. What were you thinking?"
Liz curled up the corners of her mouth.

Shaking her head, Brie thought about Doug. "Yeah. I guess Molly didn't have much better
luck at that. At least I didn't marry him." She let out a sigh, thinking of her childhood
friend. "And divorce him."

"She bounced back pretty fast. Molly's never alone. There's always someone chasing
after those long legs." Liz finished her first beer and picked up the nearly full
one in front of Brie. "Why do we always get a cab? You never have more than one, maybe
two beers. Light beers."

"I like to have options."

* * *

A dumpster sat in front of the house. Tire tracks and footprints flattened the snow
around it and down the tree-lined drive. The crew Nathan had hired to finish scrubbing
the rest of the house had just arrived to finish the job.

"Not that we mind, but why are you having us clean everything if you're just going
to rip it all out?" asked the woman in charge.

"The kids should have a clean place to live while I rip it all out. Stay as long as
you need. Find me when you're done. I'll likely be in the garage and will get you
your check." He headed off to the foyer to help Duncan and Andy.

He expected another crew soon to work on installing a spray room in a corner of the
enormous garage, but he couldn't put the boys off any longer. They were too excited
about his promise to let them play in the snow before their grandparents arrived.
While the boys wrestled with their winter gear, Goldie ran circles around the three
of them. The slope at the end of the backyard was perfect for an eight- and a six-year-old
boy to use for sledding. They each owned a shiny new red sled.