AMANDA WISHED Margie had kept her suggestions to herself. She didn’t want to rent out the Skillman cabin, because it happened to be next door to her own. Every single renter who’d leased the cabin had been noisy, annoying and low class. The last tenant had thrown loud parties and trashed the place, and the Skillmans hadn’t bothered to clean it up. Now it was empty, and Amanda preferred it that way.
Still, Hudson didn’t appear to be rowdy, though it was always hard to tell on a first meeting. He was good-looking, that was for sure. Though he was at least in his mid-thirties, his body had a youthful vigor, all lean muscle and smooth coordination. His hair was short and dark, but she could tell it had some natural curl to it. He had a square jaw, square shoulders and square hands—not much softness to him.
She liked that.
His East Coast accent called to mind Kennedys and Rockefellers. But somehow she doubted he fell into that category, or he’d be vacationing in Martha’s Vineyard or some such place. Cottonwood’s reputation as a fishing and boating mecca was growing, and it drew visitors from Dallas and Houston. But Boston?
The fact Hudson was even considering the rundown Skillman cabin meant he probably didn’t have a lot of money. Still, a commission was a commission. Maybe he’d like it here and decide to stay, and she’d sell him a house.
At any rate, she wasn’t going to let Mary Jo Dickens get him. Mary Jo was vying with Amanda for first place in sales this month, and Amanda didn’t like it one bit. Amanda had boasted top sales every month for four years, and she intended to maintain her streak. Even a small commission might be enough to edge Mary Jo ahead of Amanda.
She unlocked the doors of her silver Lincoln with a press of a button on her key chain.
“This is a pretty car,” Bethany said when they were all settled into the soft leather seats.
“Thank you,” Amanda said. The payments were eating her alive, but she firmly believed a luxurious car put her clients in the mood to buy. “So what brings you to Cottonwood?”
“Daddy got fired,” Bethany announced, as if it were something to be proud of.
Alarm bells went off in Amanda’s mind. If Mr. Stack didn’t have a job, how was he going to pay for even a small rental house? Lakefront property wasn’t cheap, not even the Skillman cabin.
“Let’s call it a leave of absence, Bethany,” Hudson said quickly. “A long-overdue vacation, really.”
“And what sort of work do you do?”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought he tensed at the question. And he didn’t answer right away. Finally he said, “I work at a hospital.”
She observed him from the corner of her eye. His clothes, while a bit rumpled, appeared to be quality made. He had a good haircut and nice teeth that had probably seen braces. Nice eyes, too, a very deep, sincere brown.
“Are you a doctor?” she finally asked when he offered no more details.
Again, that slight tension. “I do repair work.”
Was he lying? Was he an escaped convict, or a non-custodial dad who’d kidnapped his daughter?
Well, it was none of her business, so long as he could pay the rent. And if he really was a repairman, maybe he could do some work on the Skillman cabin. The owners would probably give him a break on the rent if he did a little patching and painting. She mentioned this possibility to him.
“I’m on vacation,” he said. “I plan to relax.”
Well, that put her in her place.
“Here it is,” she said as she pulled into the gravel driveway. She didn’t bother pointing out any of the house’s finer points, because there just weren’t any. As Hudson wandered through the house, silently observing the ancient appliances and leaky plumbing, the worn carpet and musty odor, he said little.
Bethany, however, was running through the house as if it were a playground.
“Look at this, Daddy!” she exclaimed, pointing to a sleeping loft. The only access was by ladder. “Can I sleep up here, Daddy, please, please? I want that to be my room.”
Amanda smiled at the child’s enthusiasm. Children had a way of filtering out the unpleasant and focusing on the positives. She remembered some of the places she’d lived as a child. Though they might have been dumps, her father would always manage to sell her by pointing out the things children loved—a tree with a tire swing, or a patio with a picnic table, or a nearby creek where they could catch tadpoles. And she could overlook leaky roofs and peeling paint.
Actually, the Skillman cabin was a palace compared to some of the places she’d lived.
HUDSON WAS ON THE VERGE of grabbing his child and running back to Boston. This place was a trash heap! But then he thought about what George would say, and he controlled the urge. He could stand anything for a month.
There was no way to fake this vacation, either. He’d thought about checking into a four-star resort in Florida or California and simply staying out of touch for a month. But he couldn’t lie to George, who’d been his mentor for a dozen years. George was convinced Cottonwood was the medicine Hudson needed, and nothing else would do. He wanted Hudson to be bored.
They walked out onto the rickety dock. “Are there fish in this lake?” Hudson asked.
“Oh, loads,” Amanda replied.
“Can I catch some goldfish?” Bethany asked.
Amanda laughed. It was a musical, tinkling laugh that seemed to shiver down Hudson’s spine. For the first time since he’d met her, Hudson thought he saw through Ms. Super-Efficient Realtor to the real woman beneath. And he liked what he saw.
“No goldfish in Town Lake,” she said. “But the pet store on the square has goldfish. That’s one pet you can keep in a rental house.”
“Who lives in that house?” Bethany asked, pointing to a tidy A-frame home next door to theirs. It was similar in style to theirs, but quite a bit larger—and nicer.
“A fairy princess lives there,” Amanda answered in a confidential whisper.
“Really? Where? Where is she?”
“She’s standing right here on the dock with you.”
“I don’t see her.”
Amanda laughed again. “I’m only teasing, Bethany. Actually, that’s my house.”
Hudson’s interest in the rental cabin ratcheted up a notch. He’d heard the saying location-location-location, and a desirable neighbor could make the location sweet.
“Can I come visit you?” Bethany asked.
“Anytime you like. Although I’m not home very much.”
“Neither is my daddy,” Bethany said.
Another twinge of guilt. How long would it take to regain Bethany’s trust? Ah, who the hell was he kidding? He’d never had it to begin with. Bethany had been only two years old when Elaine had died in a skiing accident—while skiing with her boyfriend. The shock of her death and her infidelity had been too much for Hudson. He’d thrown himself into his work like a demon. Immersed in a complicated surgery, he could forget Elaine and her painful betrayal.
Unfortunately, in forgetting Elaine he’d also neglected the emotional needs of his daughter.
Well, he intended to make up for his shortcomings as a father. Children were resilient and forgiving. He would get back in Bethany’s good graces if it killed him. And if she wanted to live in this ramshackle cabin and sleep in a loft and visit the fairy princess next door, so be it.
“I’ll take the cabin,” he said abruptly.
“Really?” Amanda seemed surprised. “I haven’t