Yearning, p.3
Yearning, page 3
She’d love to have you over.” Perhaps she was losing her
touch, as it seemed that Samantha appeared more eager to
see the house than about the invitation per se.
“Well, if you’re sure?”
“You free tonight? We’re ordering in food as the stove
looks like it might explode if we try to switch it on,” Darian
said.
“That’s very generous. Thank you.” Samantha laced her
hands in front of her.
“Seven? That okay?”
“Seven is perfect.” Samantha nodded and then pulled a
card from her jacket pocket. “Here’s my card if something
comes up.”
“Thanks. And here’s mine.”
“Thank you.”
After walking out of the town-hall building, Darian
couldn’t stop thinking about the huge archive in the
basement. Something about it thrilled her, and she kept
trying to come up with reasons why Samantha needed to let
her in there again.
Also, Samantha Pike had to be the most stunning woman
Darian had ever met. It wasn’t just her classic features, but
the way she spoke and carried herself. Where the hell did
some women learn to walk like that—as if they floated on air
in those impossible heels. Darian looked down at her
sneakers. She was a casual dresser unless she was working.
As a detective, she could wear a leather jacket, black slacks,
and black loafers. Some of her peers preferred suits, but
secretly, Darian referred to them as FBI wannabes. If, on top
of everything else, they wore black pilot sunglasses, it was
definitely a fitting description.
Getting into her car, Darian placed the tube on the
passenger seat. She was excited about showing its contents
to Gran. It had to be hard to return after fifty years and try
to find something, and someone, to reconnect with. Gran
had slept a lot since they arrived in Dennamore. Darian had
driven them across the country from LA since Gran hated
flying, and it was little wonder that Gran was still exhausted.
As soon as she was ready to go for walks or drives, surely,
they’d run into someone she used to know. If nothing else,
they could probably ask Samantha about people of Gran’s
generation tonight.
Pulling out into the modest traffic, Darian glanced at the
tube holding the prints. “Great. I’m going to be working my
ass off these upcoming months.” Strangely, when she said it
aloud, it didn’t seem like such a chore. She was doing this
for Gran, and she might just have a chance at a peek at that
library and the archive, if she was lucky.
Smiling now, Darian drove along beautiful Main Street on
her way home to Gran. She couldn’t wait to tell her about
Samantha.
CHAPTER TWO
True to her nature, Samantha didn’t bother much with the
full-length mirror, as she always dressed in a similar way.
After merely a quick glance to make sure her lipstick hadn’t
smeared and that her hair, now in a loose twist, looked all
right, she stepped out of her small house at the edge of the
forest covering the western part of the mountain chain. Her
childhood home, a small house originally built in the 1920s,
had been added to several times, making it unique.
Samantha loved her home. Every piece of furniture and
most of the items within its walls held so much history and
so many memories for her. She did possess a flat-screen
television and a computer, but those were the only items
belonging to the twenty-first century. Even the kitchen
range and washing machine were older than that. This was
not unheard of in Dennamore. Skilled handymen and
craftsmen, or women, kept the traditional homes in good
shape. The newer homes, of course, had all the equipment
young people normally demanded.
It was a lovely summer evening, and Samantha had
already decided to walk to Brynden 4, the Tennen residence.
It had been very generous of Darian to invite her to her
grandmother’s home of local fame. Samantha hoped it
would sit well with Camilla Tennen to have a surprise guest
for dinner. At the same time, Samantha was honest enough
with herself to know that she would never have been able to
decline the invitation since she’d wanted to explore the
house for years.
As she made her way down the road toward the outskirts
of Dennamore, Samantha pulled off her light-yellow
cardigan and draped it on her arm. It was quite humid this
evening, and she didn’t want to arrive all sweaty and
rumpled. Her white, short-sleeve blouse was flattering with
its lace collar, and the tan slacks went with most tops in her
closet. Giving in to comfort, Samantha wore two-inch-heel
white pumps. The open toe made them comfortable in the
warm weather. It continually baffled tourists in this area how
Dennamore always held an even temperature, albeit on par
with the current season. In summer, the average daytime
temperature stayed around 78 F. The other seasons were
also remarkably even. Scientists explained that the
phenomenon was caused by Denna Lake toward the south.
The same scientists had long tried to gain access to the lake
by petitioning the Elder Council but had always been
denied. As curious as Samantha was about every secretive
detail of her hometown, she was glad no small submarine
would disturb the ecosystem.
Samantha nodded at an older man coming to a halt next
to her on the sidewalk. “Good evening, Chief Walker.
Heading out to get those last rays of the sun in the west, I
see?” She indicated his camera, which looked almost as old
as Geoff Walker himself, former chief of police turned avid
amateur photographer.
“Aye, Ms. Pike. And in a week from now, I’ll be all set up
to catch the lake lights.”
Samantha smiled. She looked forward to the festival next
week. The Lake Light Festival drew big crowds, the
Dennamore inhabitants joined by the neighboring towns and
villages, and even people from out of state, for the two
nights this time of year when the lake would sparkle. Its
beauty was enough to make a person cry.
“I’ll be there too.” Samantha always took every
opportunity to promote the library and to talk to the oldest
population in Dennamore, who might not normally be out
and about in a casual way.
“Where are you off to this fine evening?” Chief Walker
hoisted the case holding his tripod.
“I’m having dinner with some returnees.” Samantha
could see this comment sparked his interest.
“Yes? Who’s come back this time?” He took a step closer,
lowering his voice. “Anyone we’ve heard of?”
“I’d say so. Tennen. Brynden 4.” If Walker hadn’t been
the much-loved chief of police for thirty years, Samantha
wouldn’t have volunteered any information.
“I’ll be dammed. Camilla has returned?” Walker rubbed
his goatee. “I knew the day would come, and to be truthful, I
had hoped it would come much sooner.” He shrugged, his
eyes suddenly holding a distant expression. “Better late
than never, I suppose.”
“Do you know Ms. Tennen?” Curious, Samantha wished
she’d have more time to talk to Walker.
“I knew her as Camilla Wells. She’s five years older than
me, but, oh yes, I knew her. She was friends with my older
sister, and I, along with every other boy in Dennamore, had
a crush on her.”
Samantha thought of Darian, wiry and strong, and with a
face that was more handsome than pretty—which made her
enigmatically beautiful. Hearing Chief Walker speak about
Camilla Tennen with such longing in this tone, Samantha
was even more interested in learning about the newest
returnees. “Well, I won’t keep you and make you miss the
sunset, Chief.” Samantha patted his arm. “Don’t forget to
show me the best ones, as usual.”
“Don’t worry. I’m just happy anyone is interested in my
photos at all.” Walker saluted Samantha. “Give Camilla my
best.”
“I will.”
Samantha walked the last blocks and then found herself
unable to move for a moment as she took in the sight of
Brynden 4. Someone, a gardener no doubt, had removed
some of the ivy clinging to the log walls. The deep-set
windows sparkled in the last sun rays, and the carefully
pruned fruit trees framed the house. A simple flagstone path
led to the double front door. The house looked small from
the street, but Samantha knew it stretched far into the
backyard, which was one of the biggest in Dennamore.
Opening the gate, she noticed that the fence had
received a fresh coat of white paint, and the upkeep made
her smile. Whenever a returnee came back, it was a lovely
sight when they began restoring their family homes.
The right half of the double door opened, and Darian
stepped out onto the small porch. The roof cast a shadow
across her, but Samantha could still make out her broad
smile. As she came closer, she saw the smile reflected in
Darian’s cognac-colored eyes. Some might simply call them
brown, but that would be too easy. They had a different,
special hue that gave them a liquid appearance.
“Welcome. Glad you could make it,” Darian said and
motioned for Samantha to step inside. “Please be careful
around the cables and ladders. I’m trying to find out how
many layers of wallpaper there are, and what shape they’re
in, but it’s driving me a little crazy.”
“My pleasure. Truly.” Samantha looked around the foyer.
A perfect square, it had one door on each wall. In one
corner, she saw a coatrack and hung her cardigan there.
Another corner boasted a full-length mirror, but the rest of it
was indeed littered with cables, work lights, and two
ladders. It had a tall ceiling, at least twenty feet, and a
winding cast-iron staircase led to a mezzanine on the far
wall.
“It’s amazing.” Samantha did a slow pivot to take it all in.
“Thank you for having me, Darian.”’
“Ah, so this is the lovely Samantha,” a clear voice said
from the left, and Samantha turned to greet her hostess.
Tall, willowy, with glowing white hair piled on top of her
head in the most elaborate of hairdos, a stunningly beautiful
woman gazed keenly at her. “I’m Camilla Tennen. Welcome
to Brynden.” Camilla extended her hand, and the gesture
was so regal, Samantha envisioned some knight in armor
kneeling to kiss it. She took it firmly, but also with care,
because the swollen joints suggested that Camilla Tennen
suffered from some form of arthritis.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Ms. Tennen—”
“Camilla.” Camilla’s blue eyes glittered.
“Thank you. Camilla. And yes, I’m Samantha.” How old
was Camilla? Walker said she was five years older than him,
and he was at least seventy. Camilla looked sixty, if that.
“Join us in the parlor. We have a lot to do there, but it’s
clean and fresh at least. I mean, the people in charge of the
maintenance while I was gone have done a great job, but
when a house isn’t lived in, things happen.”
“Yes. That’s true.” Samantha followed Camilla into the
parlor and could tell that it needed some upgrades, but the
old furniture was still beautiful. Framed in wood, they were
carved by a master carpenter, so ornate and perfect, you’d
think they were made in a modern CNC wood carving
machine. The fabric on top of the upholstery was worn and
faded though.
“We’re keeping the furniture. Just need some new fabrics
and more…um…padding.” Darian sat down and grimaced.
“They’re a little hard for my taste.”
“Because your old couch in LA was more like a padded
hammock,” Camilla said and chuckled. “But I agree. We
need to modernize them very carefully.”
Bookshelves lined the room and were filled. “Does this
room serve as a library too?” Samantha asked, tipping her
head back to see the top shelves.
“Nah, not quite,” Darian said and shook her head. “I
thought so too when I first got here. But the real library is
upstairs, to the left. This is the surplus, you could say.”
“Are they catalogued?” Samantha’s fingers were itching.
“No idea.” Darian looked at her grandmother. “Are they?”
“Some of the shelves upstairs are. I remember that
much. The books down here…I doubt it.” Returning her
focus to Samantha, Camilla tilted her head. “You’re a
librarian. Would you be interested in taking a look one day?
I’ll pay you for your trouble, of course.”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking your money for the
privilege.” Samantha was shocked. “If you let me peruse
your shelves and create a small catalogue, that would be
payment in itself.”
Darian glowed. “Told you, Gran.”
Samantha raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“Darian, using her detective skills no doubt, was certain
you’d jump at the chance to browse through our books.”
Camilla gave Darian a mock scowl. “And she’s insufferable
when she’s right.”
“Well, she is in this instance.” Samantha leaned back into
her chair. “I’ve dreamed of being allowed into this building
for as long as I can remember. I used to sneak into the
garden as a child and look in the windows,” she confessed.
“My parents were horrified. They acted as if I were being
blasphemous. I meant no harm, naturally.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Camilla laughed, a perfectly
contagious sound, like silver bells. “You are welcome any
time, my dear. Just call ahead so I’m not indisposed. I
sometimes am.” She frowned down at her hands.
“Of course.” Samantha couldn’t believe her luck. Sending
Darian a glance, she hoped Camilla’s generous invitation
didn’t cause her problems. “If that’s all right with you,
Darian. You live here too.”
Darian merely grinned. “Are you kidding? I barely know a
soul here.” She stood. “Why don’t I give you the grand tour?
There’s a wall in the basement that puzzles me.”
A puzzling wall? Intrigued, Samantha got up. “I’d love
to.”
“In the meantime, I’ll go into the kitchen to make sure
Brandon thinks the food that was delivered is up to par,”
Camilla told Darian.
“You okay, Gran?” Darian hesitated when Camilla moved
even slower than before.
“I’m fine, Dar. I’ll just grab an extra pill. The weather is
going to change. Mark my words.” Camilla walked toward a
door at the opposite end of the parlor. “Run along now.”
“Run along,” Darian muttered when Camilla left the
room. She sounded worried.
“She’s in pain,” Samantha said.
“She is. Every day. But when the weather changes, she
feels worse than normal.
“Arthritis?”
“Yup.” Darian took a deep breath and then straightened
her back. “Let’s do the grand tour. It’s quite a cool house,
actually.”
Samantha followed Darian out into the foyer and into the
room across from it. It was empty of furniture, except for a
large, equally ornate desk made from oak.
“This will be Gran’s study. She still writes. I’m going to
buy her the best work chair I can get my hands on, so she’ll
be comfortable. She’ll enjoy the view of the street, I think.”
“I agree. I’m mostly working in the windowless part of
Town Hall, and sometimes I wish I had a beautiful view from
my desk.” Samantha looked straight at Darian when she
spoke, and her cheeks warmed. Oddly, Darian also colored
faintly. Goodness. Unable to maintain eye contact, she
looked around the room. “That is some thick wallpaper,” she
said, feeling breathless. The wallpaper had peeled in the
corners, and it looked like you could simply pull it off.
“At least eight layers, if not more. I’m going to enjoy
pulling it down. We might hire a firm to do some of it, but
I’m not half bad at hanging wallpaper unless it has a crazy
pattern going on.”
“Wine red,” Samantha murmured. “If I lived here, that’s
what I’d choose for this room.” Shocked at her audacity, she
