“It is. Wade upgraded it a couple years ago—added the pool cover and renovated the kitchen in the snack bar. Of course we’ll need to clean the place and treat the pool water.”
“So we can have this up and running quickly?”
“Sure. It’s warm enough.”
“It’s early May. The pool should have been open already.”
“It would be if the lodge were open.”
“Right.” Even with all that had happened during the last two days, Carly found it hard to remember that the lodge was closed. Her dad never closed. For any reason. It was one of the things her mother had hated. She’d wanted to take vacations to other places, to go on a cruise, but her father had refused to leave the lodge for any length of time. She pointed her small camera and took a few pictures.
“Trying to recapture memories?”
Carly shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “I want to post pictures online to show prospective buyers all the amenities. The pictures need to evoke an emotion.”
“Do they evoke emotions in you?”
She ignored his question. “Where to next?”
Mack headed out toward the perimeter of the land. As far as she knew there was nothing there but piney woods, but in a few minutes Mack turned into a camping area with five large concrete parking pads. “What’s this?”
“Wade added RV sites. They were very successful. He was hoping to add more.”
When she’d lived here, the only camping facilities were for tents and small campers. They made a swing through that section, then Mack drove toward the lake and stopped near a grove of live oaks near the bank. He stopped the cart and stared out onto the water.
Carly waited for him to speak, but he seemed lost in thought. “Why did we stop?”
“This is where we said goodbye to your dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“We scattered his ashes right out there on the lake that he loved.”
Carly’s throat closed up. Tears stung the backs of her eyes in a swirl of mixed emotions. “The only thing he loved.” Mack looked at her, a deep frown on his face.
“That’s not true. He loved you.”
She didn’t want to argue with him, so she changed the subject. “We should keep going. We’ve only seen a small part of the grounds. I need to get back to Ella.”
“Ella and Lucy are just fine.” Mack started the cart with more acceleration than necessary, forcing them both back against the seat. He sped through the trees, slowing when they reached the two hiking trails. They began at a central point, each with a sign bearing the name of the trail, the length, and a small map etched into the thick wooden sign. The Piney Woods Trail, and the Rocky Creek Trail. But there was a third sign now. The Carly’s Hill Trail. “I don’t understand. When did he add this trail?”
“Shortly after you left one summer you returned.” He steered the cart down the narrow trail. The ground slowly rose with each turn until they perched on a rise overlooking the water. She recognized it as her favorite spot to think or read or just look at the lake. Her thoughts were full of old memories, and she tried desperately to understand what she was seeing. Mack’s soft voice intruded into her thoughts.
“The old fallen tree had rotted away, so that’s why he built the bench.”
Her gaze searched the area. She hadn’t even noticed the bench. A nice sturdy one with a slatted back and curved arms, and a slice of tree trunk on the side situated perfectly as a side table. She’d always complained that she had to sit her bottle of water on the ground.
Carly struggled to find words. It didn’t make any sense. Why would he construct a trail just for her?
“Why didn’t you come to the funeral?” Mack asked.
Her defenses kicked in. “It wasn’t a funeral. Only a memorial service.”
“You should have been here.”
“And my dad should have—” She snapped her lips shut. “We should see the rest of the property.”
Mack stiffened but kept silent, and he drove back down the trail and headed toward the five cabins. “The cabins need work. Two of them are in good condition, but the other three need electrical and plumbing work, and one of them is in need of major repairs.”
He drove past the row of cabins situated near the lake edge.
“Stop,” she said. Mack brought the cart to a halt. “Why is this cabin boarded up?”
Mack inhaled a slow breath before answering. “It’s not usable right now.”
“Why not?”
He leaned his forearms on the steering wheel. “The cabin was rented to a group of college students who got drunk and trashed the place. They left holes in the wall, pulled the plumbing from the bathroom, destroyed kitchen appliances and broke the windows. Everything inside needs to be replaced.”
Carly’s hopes sank. “We’ve never had anything like this happen before. Our guests were always respectful of the property. Did Dad report this to the police?”
“He did, and they were fined and ordered to pay for the damage. They were supposed to work on it themselves, but your dad got sick so the money came in handy, but the repairs are now on us.”
“Is there any way we can get this cabin ready to rent?”
“No.”
Carly’s hopes took another nosedive. How many other areas would have to be left untouched in order to get the lodge open by the deadline? She looked away from the damaged cabin, frowning at the empty landscape ahead. “Where’s the canoe livery? It was always right near the cabins.”
“It’s moved farther down the bank. It’s its own destination now.”
Mack drove down a new gravel path she didn’t remember. Pulling into a small parking area with a neatly laid out path leading to the triangle-shaped canoe stand. But instead of the usual eight, there were only two, and beside it was another stand that held four colorful kayaks. Beyond that, resting on the grassy bank, were three johnboats.
“Where are the canoes?”
“Several of them are in need of repairs. Wade never got around to fixing them. The kayaks are a new addition. The younger guests prefer them to the canoes.”
Carly tapped in canoe repair to her phone list of things needing to be done before they could reopen. Mack turned the cart around and headed back to the lodge. “The Piney Woods Trail needs clearing. They had a high-wind storm a month or so ago and the path is littered with limbs and debris. That was right after Wade got sick and closed the lodge, so it never got taken care of.”
Carly added that to her list. The number of areas needing attention was long and time-consuming, and they hadn’t even made a survey of the main lodge and what might need doing there. “I don’t know how we can open in a week.”
“Then we’ll open in two.”
“No. I want this place on the market as soon as possible.”
“Why are you in such a hurry to unload the lodge? This is your heritage.”
“I don’t live here. I live in Atlanta, and I have no desire to run the campgrounds. So there’s no reason to hang around and waste time. The sooner we sell the better.”
“So it’s all about the money with you?”
“Not in the way you mean.”
“What other way is there?”
“I