Closing Time Read online

  “No, you need your rest and I have a full workday ahead tomorrow.” The words weren’t what he wanted to say, but he knew she needed this time to pack without being distracted. He needed to get used to them being gone.

  “You could come visit us on your days off. Algoma’s only a nine-hour drive.” Her voice was wistful as if she’d already been gone a long time and was wondering when she’d see him next.

  “Depends on how the month goes.” She was leaning against him. He lifted his arm and pulled her closer. “You both need this time,” he said into her hair.

  “We’re taking Fisher’s ashes. We’re going to find the perfect fishing spot, and Dawn will set her dad’s spirit free.” Stonechild tilted her head to look at him. “Dawn is sad that you’re not coming with us.”

  “Are you planning to spend the entire time at the cottage you rented?”

  “For the week, yeah. After that, I’m hoping to bring Dawn into the wilderness if she can handle roughing it. I’m bringing my tent as well as the canoe. This cottage, which northerners refer to as a camp, is on the edge of some decent rivers …” Her voice trailed off. She seemed to realize that he wouldn’t be able to follow them when she took Dawn away from Pine Hollow Lodge for an extended canoe trip.

  “I’ll be here when you get back. Someone has to be waiting to hear your stories.” He kissed her for a long time before pushing up from the steps. “I’ll be off so you can get ready for the morning. Stay safe and enjoy your time away.”

  He was almost at the corner of the house when he heard her say, “I miss you already.” He nearly turned around to go to her but knew it would be a mistake. She needed this time to figure out what she wanted, and he had no choice but to wait and pray she came back to him ready to commit to their life together.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Martha Lorring snapped the sheet toward the ceiling and let the fabric float gently onto the bed. She tucked in the ends and plumped the pillows before putting on fresh bedspreads. The cabin was damp and musty, but she’d turned up the heat when she entered, and it would be toasty warm when the new guests arrived. She took a moment to look out the window. The glass framed a view of the birches in the foreground with the pines, aspen, and elms thick on the ridge. She closed her eyes and pictured the view of the lake from the living-room window. The treed land sloped down to a small beach and a wooden dock that stretched into the deep, cold water. She’d go for a swim at her strip of beach later once the air warmed. The water still held on to summer’s heat even though the late August nights were getting cooler. The Farmers’ Almanac predicted an early winter this year and she feared it might be right.

  She walked down the short hall into the living room and her critical eye surveyed the space. Glen Cottage was one of their larger cabins with two spacious bedrooms. It was also the most private. Neal had removed the wall separating the kitchen from the common area the summer before. A floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace filled most of the back wall with a full basket of logs and kindling ready to lay a fire. Guests had lit one three nights earlier and the smell of woodsmoke lingered. Shiny stuffed fish and moose paintings decorated the knotty pine walls and gave the place the rustic feel that guests seemed to expect. She’d bought striped woven rugs for the floors and painted the kitchen walls a cheery yellow after the renovation. The couches and easy chairs were old but reupholstered as well — green plaid on the couch and tan leather on the chairs. The place was spotless. She was satisfied; the cottage was ready.

  Neal met her on the path. “I finished cleaning Bluebird and Climbing Rose,” he said. He gave a grimace like he always did when he used the names she’d given the cottages. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. She could see beads of sweat glistening in his black beard. “I came to see if you need help with anything.”

  So he’d decided to act as if their argument from the night before was over. She was grateful for the reprieve but knew the angry feelings would simmer and boil over another time. Nothing had been settled between them. “I’m finished. I was coming back to get some lunch.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  The path carved through the woods was wide enough for them to walk side by side, but he followed a few steps behind her. Neither of them spoke. Martha tried to clear her head of the million-and-one things left to do and simply enjoy the late-summer smell of the woods and the trace of a breeze on her cheeks. She tried not to think about how distant Neal had been since her last miscarriage earlier in the spring.

  She’d give anything to make things right between them, but she seemed incapable these days. Losing another fetus had plunged her into despair. She’d been vulnerable and made mistakes, but she was coming through the fog. Neal had to see that. The shadows on the path thickened. She sensed a movement in the underbrush to her right and a brown hare hopped across the path two feet in front of her. It took a few moments for her heartbeat to return to its normal rhythm. She was getting as jumpy as a jackrabbit.

  “Shane’s back from town,” Neal said when he pulled open the screen door for her. “Petra went on her own, but she’s not back yet.”

  “Shane said he’d be here in time to get supper started. I’ll give him a hand and meet you in the cabin for lunch. I made a casserole last night.” She paused before stepping across the threshold and studied him to see if his casual remark about Petra meant anything. “Is Rachel on site yet?”

  “Haven’t seen her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t. I’ve been working in the cabins.”

  “Of course.”

  Martha crossed through the restaurant and pushed the door open into the back room. Shane didn’t notice her at first, and she stood in the doorway watching him chop onions with his back to her. He was wearing a short-sleeved white T-shirt and she liked watching his arm muscles flex and relax as he worked the knife. He sensed her presence and turned. His eyes were watery from the onions.

  “Good day, is it?” he asked as he slid the onions into a large pot.

  She wrapped an apron around her waist and moved next to him. He had on a cologne that smelled strongly of lemons and spice. She took a step toward the fridge. “The woman and her kid should be arriving soon.” She ignored his question. What would be the point of saying today was the same as every other day? Continual work from the moment she got out of bed. She usually enjoyed the labour but was looking forward to closing down the lodge after school started the first week of September. Only one week to go. She and Neal would return to Cobourg for the winter and maybe take a trip to Arizona in late January. They’d be back here soon enough at the end of March to open the cabins. Bookings had already been coming in steadily for the spring season. Neal would have spent the winter here if she’d agreed, but the one year they had done that she almost went crazy.

  “Petra went into the Soo for the day,” he said.

  Martha grabbed the bag of carrots from the lower bin and straightened. “She’s been spending a lot of time in town,” she said as she ripped the bag open. She dumped the carrots in a heap on the cutting board and got a knife and peeler from the drawer. She glanced over at Shane. “We’re already late getting this stew in the oven.”

  “I’ll get a chicken roasting after lunch. The scalloped potatoes are prepped and in the fridge. No worries. Everything will fall into place. What’s the guest total?”

  “Ian Kruger and Blaine Rogers are paid up for this week and next. Thomas Faraday, of course, and the new woman and her daughter in Glen Cottage.” Martha was adding up potential dinner customers in her head. The rental price came with breakfast and supper included. She took reservations for supper from other cottagers on the lake and from Searchmont. “Bluebell’s empty this week. Four town couples are booked for supper.”

  “Sounds like thirteen plus us. There’s those who might say thirteen guests is a bad number.” He grinned. “A bad omen, if you will.”

  Martha stood still with the knife suspended in the air. She turned her face toward him and his smile evaporated. “
What is it, Martha? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She took a second to shake the fear that had paralyzed her limbs. She breathed deeply and calmed the fluttering in her chest before giving him a shaky smile. “I don’t know what’s going on with me today. I haven’t been sleeping well.” She gave a sharp laugh. “Do you ever get that bad feeling that you can’t shake?”

  “Only if I have a reason.”

  Martha set the knife on the counter and rubbed her hands on the apron. “Do you think you could finish making the stew? I promised Neal I’d meet him for lunch at the cabin.”

  Shane nodded. His eyes were concerned. He touched her arm as she walked past him, but she pretended not to notice.

  Martha had trouble getting herself in gear and entered the restaurant well into the supper hour. She breathed a sigh of relief to see Rachel setting down plates of chicken and scalloped potatoes on the table in front of Ian Kruger and Blaine Rogers, the Ontario Hydro linesmen who’d rented the cottage for the summer while they upgraded service in the backcountry. They wouldn’t be returning in the spring, which was a shame. They’d been easy guests and the rent money had been reliable. Her eyes scanned the room and rested for a moment on the new renters: an Indigenous woman named Kala Stonechild and a girl who looked to be fourteen or fifteen years old. They’d started into their meal and had both ordered the stew. As she watched, Rachel walked over to them and asked if they needed anything more. She was pleased to see that Rachel had tied her long hair back securely as she’d requested the day before.

  The door opened with a gust of cold air and she turned. Thomas Faraday stood behind her, running a hand through his white hair while his brilliant blue eyes darted around the room. He frowned when he saw the woman and girl at his usual table, but let his mouth return to a straight line when he saw Martha staring at him.

  “New blood,” he said before stepping past her to take the table closest to the picture window. He nodded a hello to Ian and Blaine as he sat down. Three couples from town arrived a few moments later: the Catholic priest Alec Vila and his sister, Sara; Phil and Greta Bocock, both teachers at the regional high school; and Reeve Judd Neilson and his wife, Elena, who let Martha know that the fourth couple booked for supper wouldn’t be able to make it. So not an unlucky number of guests for dinner after all. The new movers and shakers in town. All young and each in a position of authority. There was talk that they were joining forces to get provincial grants for tourism. The little community could do with an infusion of money, but residents were divided on the ways and means. The six of them asked to sit together and Martha settled them at the longer table against the back wall. She motioned for Rachel to come over and pour water for the group while she took care of Faraday.

  The room was alive with chatter and clinking dishes and someone, probably Shane, had turned on the stereo system. He liked music from the fifties and sixties and Perry Como’s voice crooned like gooey syrup through the speakers. Martha relayed Faraday’s order to the kitchen and took a moment to stop by the newcomers’ table.

  “I’m Martha Lorring, the owner of Pine Hollow Lodge,” she said. “Sorry that I didn’t greet you on arrival. I hope everything is to your liking.”

  The Indigenous woman glanced at the young girl. “No complaints. Our cottage is comfortable and this meal is delicious. My name is Kala and this is my niece, Dawn.”

  “I’m so pleased you’ve decided to spend your holidays with us. We’re a rustic retreat and a chance to get away from the city. We don’t have Wi-Fi and cellphone usage can be sporadic … well, pretty much non-existent, but that’s all part of our charm.” She smiled while watching their faces to see if this was a problem. Neither gave anything away. “Town is just over five kilometres south of here and you can get Wi-Fi in any of the shops and restaurants,” she added.

  “How many people live in Searchmont?” asked Kala.

  “Three hundred or so. We go farther southwest to the Soo, that’s Sault Ste. Marie, when we want to shop for anything more exciting than coffee.”

  “Suits us. We plan to get in some canoeing and hiking.”

  “Well, you couldn’t have come to a better spot. We have inland lakes and rivers with some challenging white water if that’s your thing. Shane’s our resident canoeist if you want some direction about routes. He’s also our cook, but I know he’ll be happy to speak with you when the rush is over.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  Martha glanced at the girl. She had her head lowered and was moving the stew around on her plate with a fork. She looked morose and Martha wondered if she’d been dragged here against her will. She knew that teenagers could be tricky. She directed her last words to the woman. “If you need anything don’t be shy to ask. Welcome to Pine Hollow Lodge.”

  She left them and walked to the kitchen. Rachel was inside talking to Shane, and she turned when Martha pushed the door open. Her face was flushed as if she’d been standing over a steaming pot at the stove. Tendrils of red hair had escaped the elastic. The smile on her face vanished as soon as she saw Martha. “So, I’ll come back for Thomas’s stew order in ten minutes,” Rachel said before manoeuvring her way around her and through the door.

  “Don’t forget to offer the new people pie,” said Martha before it swung shut. “I’ll look after the people from town.” She stared at Shane, who was working at the stove with his back to her. “Did Petra make it home okay?” she asked.

  He half-turned. “She hasn’t checked in with me. Any idea where Neal is?”

  “He got the new people settled and then went fishing.”

  “Looks like our spouses are enjoying themselves while we hold down the fort.” Shane smiled, but Martha didn’t see any humour in his eyes. “Of course, you’d know all about Petra’s talent for getting others to avoid their responsibilities.”

  “It’s over,” she said softly. “We need to move on.”

  “I know we’d all like to think so.” He turned back to the stove, his shoulders hunched in, head lowered over the pot.

  Martha knew better than to say anything further on the subject of Petra. Some stones were best left unturned. She pushed the door to the outer room open and heard Neal’s laughter before she saw him. His eyes lifted and met hers where he stood with Rachel. The late-day fishing had added a sheen to his already brown face and he looked more relaxed than when they’d parted after sharing her casserole. Lunch had been strained and he’d avoided being lured back into the argument of the night before. She’d tried to provoke him into a reaction only because she hadn’t liked his indifference. He’d refused to engage.

  Rachel turned toward Martha while lifting a piece of pie from the counter. She said something to Neal and smiled at him before starting on her way across the room.

  Martha lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair from her face as she watched Rachel take the pie to Thomas Faraday’s table. She sensed someone’s eyes on her and her gaze shifted slightly to her right. The woman was sitting motionless, her searching black eyes, as dark as ink, focused squarely on Martha’s face.

  You don’t miss much, thought Martha. She took a step toward Neal before pivoting and walking into the kitchen. She didn’t trust herself not to snap at him and it would be a mistake to air their dirty laundry in front of the new lodger.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kala and Dawn left the restaurant in the main lodge and walked the dirt path through the woods to their cabin. A thick line of birch and evergreen trees hid the building from view until they broke into the clearing.

  Dawn ran ahead down the incline that sloped to the sand beach in front of their cottage. The sun was setting and streaks of pink and orange flamed across the horizon and rippled over the lake. “Why isn’t it dark yet?” she asked when Kala reached her.

  “We’re farther north. The sun sets closer to nine o’clock in September.”

  “Then we can stay up later.”

  “A bit, but we’ll get a good night’s sleep tonight and put the canoe
in the water once the sun’s up.” Kala felt the familiar peace that filled her at the thought of being back on the water. “I’ll go get Taiku and will join you in a sec.”

  Taiku was waiting at the door and raced ahead of her to where Dawn stood on a rounded rock staring out at the water. Dawn squatted and wrapped an arm around his neck. Kala lowered herself onto the rock next to them. The warmth penetrated through the cotton fabric of her pants. “What do you think of the big outdoors?” she asked. She kept her voice light to hide her uncertainty. Dawn had never spent any time out of the city. She might very well hate being away from her friends and everything familiar.

  “It’s so quiet.” Dawn leaned her head back. “And … the sky is endless.”

  “No city lights to get in the way of the stars.”

  Dawn had sidestepped her question, but Kala didn’t press. She was bound to feel out of her element. She needed a chance to settle in, to feel part of this.

  Dawn looked at her with accusing eyes. “I wish Gundersund was here. Taiku misses Minny.”

  And I miss Gundersund. She closed off the feeling. “We’ll see them soon enough.”

  “I thought we’d be able to Skype him tonight, except there’s no Wi-Fi. Did you know that before we came?”

  “I remembered reading about it, but only after Martha told us. We’ll go into town and call Gundersund from there. Maybe tomorrow evening after supper.”

  Dawn’s expression lightened. “I can tell him about our cabin.”

  Taiku was sniffing around the brush growing close to the shore. A fish jumped in the lake, sending concentric circles across the still water. Reeds swayed below the surface to the left of the rocks they were sitting on, the water opaque a few metres out. A stretch of sand beach and a dock were farther to their right. They’d be able to launch the canoe easily from there. A bird’s deep-throated call travelled across the lake.