One Big Happy Family Read online

  “‘…there was a mommy duck with a whole nest full of eggs.’”

  “Samantha! I told you to stay out of the water.”

  Sam had been concentrating so hard on her words that she didn’t hear her sisters come back. In fact, she didn’t even know they were there until Fiona hollered. Then Sam just about jumped out of her wet pants.

  “I had to show her the pictures.” Samantha began splashing out of the lake. “You always show me the pictures when you read to me.”

  No one said anything to Sam as Cassie went into the water. Samantha vowed that when she was a big kid she was going to be nice to everybody. No matter how big or small they were.

  She ran the last few steps out of the water. Then she turned and watched Cassie.

  “Stop it, you dumb old bird. We’re just trying to help you.”

  Cassie was splashing around in the water around Juliet. The birds were getting excited and waving their wings around. Samantha held her breath.

  “Fiona!” Cassie cried out. “I can’t cut the plastic away unless she holds still. You’ve got to come over here and help.”

  “In there?”

  Fiona didn’t want to do it. Samantha clenched her hands. She could help. She knew she could. But if she tried, her sisters would just tell her to get out of the water.

  Without another word, Fiona inched into the water and Samantha let all the air out of her lungs. Her oldest sister was moving slow, but she was moving. She circled out around to the other side of the swans.

  “When she’s looking at me, you cut her free,” Fiona told Cassie.

  Cassie nodded as Juliet kept watching Fiona.

  “Hi, Juliet,” Fiona said. “You remember me? I’m Fiona.”

  Of course, Juliet remembered her, Sam thought What did Fiona think, that the bird was dumb?

  Cassie was whispering something to the bird and Samantha couldn’t hear what it was. But the bird was only looking at Fiona, and Cassie was getting closer and closer. Samantha held her breath and squeezed her fists and her eyes shut.

  Then, suddenly, she heard Juliet flapping her wings. Sam’s eyes flew open just in time to see Cassie kind of lying in the water. For a minute Samantha couldn’t breathe or anything. She thought one of the birds had hit Cassie, but then Cassie stood with a whoosh.

  “Look at this stupid junk.” She was waving a piece of plastic over her head as Juliet and Romeo were swimming away. “People who throw this stuff in the lake ought to be hung by their necks with it.”

  Cassie didn’t talk nice when she was mad, but that was okay. Everyone was safe now.

  Fiona followed Cassie out of the water. “Come on.” She took Samantha’s hand but was talking to Cassie. “We’ll go back to camp by the nurse’s office. We can say we went there with you.”

  “Whatever.”

  Nurse’s office? Samantha stared at Cassie. Her sister was never sick. Why were they talking about going to see the nurse? Sam wanted to ask, but when she opened her mouth, no words came out. An old woman was coming toward them, looking kind of scary.

  “I saw what you did,” the woman said.

  “So?” Cassie replied.

  Samantha bit her lip. She hoped they weren’t going to get in trouble.

  “It was my fault.” Fiona was always trying to make things okay after Cassie got mad. “I’m the oldest and I should have known better.”

  The old woman laughed. “The gods will smile on you,” she said. “You fought so love might live. Someday, the spirits will return to fight for your love.” She disappeared into the trees.

  Spirits? Weren’t they the same as ghosts? Sam wondered. What kind of ghosts was the woman talking about? Swan ghosts?

  Samantha didn’t think she wanted any kind of ghosts coming around, and she edged over, closer to Fiona, clutching her backpack again. Did ghosts take backpacks?

  Chapter One

  “You’re history, you leaky old pipe,” Samantha Scott muttered as she spread her tools out around her on the tiled bathroom floor.

  The small white hexagonal floor tiles were charming—a quaint reminder of the solidity and strength of houses built around the turn of the century. Just like the heavy paneledoak doors, the wide cove molding around the ceilings and the brass light fixtures. These ancient water pipes were another story, though.

  Sam picked up a wrench and pulled the ever-present plastic bucket out from under the pipe, tossing it onto the bathroom floor behind her. Then she crawled into the cabinet, faceup, so that she was staring at the bottom of the sink. One of the advantages of being small was you could squeeze into almost any space. A fat, cold drop of water fell onto her nose. But it felt almost good compared to the hot, sticky August air.

  “Welcome to you, too,” she muttered and fitted her wrench around the nut at the top of the corroded supply pipe. “I may not be able to do anything about the pipes in the wall, but I can sure take care of you.” She gave a mighty push against the nut. It didn’t budge. Not a smidgen.

  “Sam?” Light footsteps came closer, followed by her sister Fiona’s face peering through the cabinet door—complete with frown. “What in the world are you doing? You can’t fix the plumbing in this old place along with everything else.”

  “I’m not fixing the plumbing,” Sam corrected her, continuing to try to budge the stubborn nut. “I’m replacing a leaky supply pipe. Minor surgery.”

  “I don’t care that Cassie said this place was in good shape. There’s no such thing as minor surgery when you’re dealing with old plumbing.”

  Fiona sat on the edge of the claw-footed bathtub so Sam could only see her feet and legs. Her sandals were speckled with drops of water. It must still be raining outside.

  “This place is ready to fall apart. I don’t know what you and Dad were thinking of.”

  Sam knew exactly what she’d been thinking of—that light of excitement that came back into Dad’s eyes each time he talked about his dream of having a bed-and-breakfast. A dream that Sam feared had died with Mom six years ago.

  “Our bed-and-breakfast is going to open by the end of September. We have to. We’ve got reservations for the first football weekend in October.”

  “Sam, you know it’s not that we don’t want you to succeed.”

  Fiona’s voice was high—a telltale sign that she was about to make a pronouncement for someone’s own good, a pronouncement based on the collective wisdom of Sam’s two sisters and three brothers.

  “Lord knows, we all think this inn would be the best thing in the world for you and Dad, but you can’t fix everything yourself. It’s just too much. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “Sure, I do.” Sam squirmed to avoid the residue flaking off the nut, not her conscience, and hoped Fiona wouldn’t notice the Reader’s Digest Complete Do-It-Yourself Manual on the top of the toilet tank. But the sound of pages being flipped told her that was a useless hope.

  “This book is two weeks overdue.” Sam heard the dull thump of the book being placed on the floor. “Your library card is going to be revoked.”

  “I’m a librarian,” Sam reminded. “They won’t revoke my card.”

  “They might,” Fiona said. “You have to obey the rules, too, you know.”

  Fiona had had this thing about rules ever since she, Sam and Cassie had been kids. Their parents had died when Sam was four and she could barely remember them, but she did remember Fiona always worrying that one or another of them was breaking some rule. Even after the Scotts had adopted them, Fiona had followed Sam and Cassie around, filling their ears with deep sighs as she tried to keep them in line.

  “Sam,” Fiona was saying, “the father of one of my students does plumbing repairs on the side—”

  “I don’t need his help.” And can’t afford it. Even if the savings and loan did approve their request for a larger mortgage.

  “He can get parts at cost and—”

  “I don’t need any help,” Sam repeated.

  “I wish I could believe that.
” Fiona stood. Her sandals were out of sight and the hem of her skirt just peeked under the edge of the cabinet opening. “I’d better get going. Alex and I are shopping for new kitchen wallpaper tonight.” Fiona and Alex had bought Dad’s old house and were redoing it. “I left a casserole in the fridge for your dinner.”

  “What for? I had dinner planned.”

  “I know. I saw the pizza coupons on the counter. See you later, hon.”

  Her footsteps disappeared softly down the hallway and Sam let her shoulders slump. Her adoptive brothers were no better than her sisters; all her siblings seemed to think she needed watching over. If they hadn’t meant well, she would have run away from home long ago. She’d been well loved and well supervised, but didn’t they realize she was grown-up? Yeah, she was the baby of the family, so they wanted to keep the bandages handy. But they should see she needed to ride without training wheels.

  A bundle of tabby fur climbed into the cabinet and settled on Sam’s chest.

  “You know this place is going to be a success, don’t you, Toby?” The cat blinked his agreement and purred as she resumed her attack on the recalcitrant nut.

  “Hello? Miss Scott?”

  Toby started at the sound of the male voice and so did Sam, but probably not for the same reasons. The man’s voice was as smooth and thick as maple syrup, with a husky depth that was almost enough to set Sam to purring. She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Toby tensed as a pair of tan slacks came into view.

  “Miss Scott? Are you up here?”

  “In here,” she mumbled, as Toby backed into her face.

  She shoved the cat off to the side as the stranger stooped down and looked into the cabinet. Her breath caught as she stared at him. His dark brown hair had just faint streaks of gray at the temples, his eyes were deep dark pools of mystery and passion. And his shoulders—encased in a raindampened, navy sports coat over a pale blue shirt—were broad enough to carry the weight of not only plumbing problems, but electrical, as well.

  The man smiled. “Is this your office?” he asked, waving at the inside of the cabinet. “Or am I intruding on your private quarters?”

  Sam let her breath out slowly. Her insanity was due, no doubt, to the close confines of the cabinet. She was not about to get hyper over a handsome face. “Why don’t I come on out?” she said.

  He stood, giving her room to move, to breathe, to think. She squirmed out of the cabinet, well aware of the fact that her dignity, as well as her equilibrium, had long since disappeared. Who was this guy, anyway, to come in here and discombobulate her?

  She made it out of the cabinet, then carefully got to her feet. Unfortunately, his presence was just as unsettling when she was vertical. Not a good sign. Maybe a frown would keep those magic male rays from affecting her. She was not some weak, simpering female, ready to go faint at the sight of a handsome man.

  “Now, what can I do for you?” she asked.

  “Kevin Delaney,” he said, holding out a business card and his hand.

  She took the card and, without looking at it, placed it on the edge of the sink. Then she slowly shook his hand.

  “I met your sister on her way out and she told me you were up here. I hope I didn’t come at a bad time, but this was the only time I could squeeze you into my schedule.”

  Aha. Fiona had sent him up. Fiona, who just happened to know someone who did plumbing repairs on the side. Fiona, who just happened to have shown up a few minutes before Mr. Delaney. Except that her sister never “happened” to do anything in her life.

  This had to be Fiona’s plumber. Sam’s temper lurched into high gear, ready to take off, and she had to hold it back with both hands.

  “This isn’t a bad time,” Sam repeated carefully. “Though I’m afraid you’ve made the trip for nothing.”

  He had been opening up the notebook he was carrying and stopped to stare at her. “I beg your pardon,” he said slowly.

  Toby came out of the cabinet and jumped up on the edge of the sink to butt his head into Sam’s hand. She petted him slowly, trying to match the even rhythm of his breathing to her own. It wasn’t this stranger’s fault that Fiona was organizing Sam’s life again. She should at least be polite to him.

  “I don’t need your help, after all,” she said simply. “I have everything under control here.”

  He frowned and glanced around him, his gaze taking in the tools scattered over the floor, the do-it-yourself repair book and her skinned knuckles. “You have plumbing problems?”

  No, she was having a picnic here in the north suite’s bathroom. “Only minor ones,” she replied. “I’m not so foolish as to touch the wall pipes. They’re probably being held together by rust and mineral deposits, so I’m steering clear of them.”

  “If they’re that bad, they could cause you big problems in the future.”

  “Then that’s when I’ll worry about it—in the future.” She stepped over the repair manual and, with a regal wave of her hand, got him to move slightly closer to the door.

  He frowned, reminding Sam of her father, her brothers, her brother-in-law Alex and her brother-in-law-to-be Jack. “That’s not a very sound business attitude,” he said. “You should at least—”

  That did it. First of all, his good looks assaulted her heart and now he was rivaling Fiona as chief advice-giver. “Look, Mr. Delaney, I’ll thank you to butt out. I’ve done just fine up to this point without your or my siblings’ interference. Just because you’ve got business cards and a leather notebook, doesn’t make you an expert on running an inn, you know.”

  The deep brown eyes suddenly turned hard. “It hardly takes an expert to see that this place needs more than just a few cosmetic repairs,” he observed. “And any reasonable businessman knows that preventive maintenance is always cheaper than wholesale replacement.”

  “And you just happen to be offering a special bargain rate on your services now, right?”

  “What I’m trying to offer is some advice, but you seem to be too stubborn to listen.”

  “And you’re too stubborn to admit that somebody might do quite well without your advice.”

  His nostrils flared as the heat of anger flashed though his eyes. He closed his notebook with a snap. “I’ve never yet forced anyone to do business with me. You have my card if you change your mind, but don’t count on my cooperation.”

  “And don’t count on my call,” she snapped.

  With that, he turned on his heel and left. His footsteps echoed on the bare wooden steps and across the marble-tiled foyer. The front door opened and shut hard, the angry sound reverberating through the house. Then everything was silent and still.

  Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She shouldn’t have been so rude to him. After all, it hadn’t been his fault that Fiona had told him to come. But Sam was glad he’d gone, glad that it was over. Toby mewed softly and pushed at her hand for attention.

  He was so certain she would call, too. If that wasn’t just like a man. She might have his card, but not for long. The house could be awash in leaky pipes, with furniture being swept down the stairs and out into the yard by rushing waters. And she still wouldn’t call Mr. Kevin Delaney to ask the time of day. She reached around Toby and picked up the business card.

  “I’ll just file this under N for never.” Suddenly her heart stopped. “Oh, no!”

  “Michiana Savings and Loan. Kevin Delaney. Vice President. Loan Department.” She hadn’t chased away a pushy plumber. She’d bounced the moneyman!

  Kevin stared out his office window. It was pouring outside and he thought he could hear thunder in the distance. He hoped they wouldn’t get too much rain. His basement tended to flood when there were downpours, and he didn’t look forward to bailing it out around midnight. Of course, he would have been home a lot earlier if he hadn’t agreed to that stupid poker game. It was just that he was tired of Stacy bugging him to go out every time she called. You would think she was the parent and he was the kid.

  Of
course, he hadn’t acted very adultlike in getting so angry at that Scott woman. He shook his head, trying to dispel the image of soft womanliness from his mind.

  He never got angry. It was the standard joke here at the savings and loan. Cool-tempered Kevin. Nothing ever made him blow up. The savings and loan could be robbed, his car could be destroyed in a hijack attempt, and wild dogs could break into his kitchen and work their way through the frozen dinners. None of it would faze him in the slightest. He would call the police, then find a corner to read the newspaper.

  A knock at his office door woke him from his thoughts.

  “Hey, Kevin.” Dick Hayes poked his head in the door. “We’ve got to cancel the poker game. The power’s out at Tom’s house.”

  “No problem,” Kevin said and hoped that his relief wasn’t too evident in his voice. He could just go home and—

  “We’re going out for a drink instead,” Dick added. “Maybe get something to eat.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Kevin said. “I should get on home and make sure my basement hasn’t turned into a swimming pool.” Dick left with a wave and silence shrouded Kevin’s office once more.

  He wasn’t a social being—not anymore. Maybe he’d never been one. Debbie had loved socializing and parties and just being with people. She’d started dragging him along in high school, and by the time they married in college, he’d left his hermit status far behind.

  That is, until she’d died two years ago. Then he hadn’t even been able to talk to his kids. It was no wonder they preferred their grandparents’ company to his. Or that Stacy chose to stay at Purdue over the summer and that Jon moved in with her to get a head start on his freshman year.

  “Mr. Delaney.” Cindy Baumgartner, his secretary, was at the door, her umbrella and purse in hand. “There’s a Miss Scott here to see you. I told her it was closing time, but she’s very insistent.”

  Miss Scott? “Samantha Scott?”

  “Yes,” Cindy replied. “She said she’s a client of ours.”