The Bluebird Bet Page 3

  “Hard to imagine another space like this anywhere, Dad.” Dean was relieved to be on firmer emotional footing. His father whistled as they walked up the hill to the overgrown yard.

  When the car door shut on a sensible gray four-door sedan, Dean watched the doctor, if she was a doctor, tiptoe carefully through the gravel in sandals that had no business outside the city streets. Instead of scrubs or a white coat, she was wearing a sundress. She looked like a model for a beachside getaway. Obviously, she’d dressed for the old Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. If she’d known about today’s disaster, she’d be wearing work boots or mourning. Either way, she was not prepared for what she was about to see.

  Didn’t mean she wasn’t pretty in a very serious, very studious kind of way. Her dark glasses perched on the end of her nose, and her hair was twisted up on top of her head. Except for the setting, she could be out for brunch with the ladies.

  “Hi. I hope I’m not late, Mr. Collins,” she said breathlessly as she stepped into the grass in front of the porch. “Beautiful day for a drive.”

  “Shoulda warned you about the road. You could have called me from the highway to save your car a little wear and tear.” His father propped his hands on his hips. Dean had seen the pose a few hundred times. It was the one his father struck when he was carefully assessing the situation.

  “Oh, it’s not so bad.” She held out her hand. “I’m Elaine, Dr. Watson. It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

  Caught off guard, Dean grasped her hand in his. She surprised him again when she gave it a firm shake and then dropped it as though it was too hot to hold.

  “What do you think?” his father asked. “Not quite what you remembered, is it?” The uncertainty on his father’s face had a few defensive comments popping to mind, but before Dean could get any of them ready to fire, she said, “I love it.”

  She slowly stepped forward as if she was drawn toward the building, being towed in by a mixture of old memories and the charm of the faded wraparound porch.

  “I can’t believe it’s taken this long to come back,” Elaine said quietly. “Only good manners have kept me from showing up on your doorstep, Mr. Collins.”

  His father laughed. “And crazy hours, double shifts and patients who need you have no doubt hampered your ability to explore.” She smiled at his father over her shoulder and instead of being the enemy out to build a better offer than anything he could put together, she was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, happy woman in a breezy sundress posed in front of the old farmhouse as though she was a model spokesperson to sell relaxing vacations. She seemed to fit the landscape perfectly and at the same time made him wonder what it would be like to be the man who put the smile on her face.

  That smile was dangerous. Land-mine dangerous.

  Determined to get things back on track, and Dr. Elaine Watson chugging down the washed-out road as quickly as possible, Dean roughly cleared his throat. “Well, you’re here now. Might as well get the whole tired picture.”

  When she turned her eyes to him, he was thankful for the glass lenses, which were probably the only things saving him from incineration. She didn’t miss a thing, and as she assessed him from head to toe, he was aware again that he’d dressed as if his only choices were in the Lost and Found. “Sorry. If I’d known we were having company, I’d have put on my dress flip-flops.”

  Dr. Watson didn’t like him, didn’t want to like him, and the sharp eyes of a competitor were easy to see. She was here to win. When his father frowned at him, Dean almost apologized, but then her cool smile made him double down. She obviously had her act together while everything about him was scattered across the globe. She could put up with ratty flip-flops for a few minutes.

  But her charmed smile and the way his father stepped up to offer her his arm made it crystal clear how weak his own position was. He followed them up the steps and watched the doctor spin around to take in the view, the best part of the Bluebird Bed-and-Breakfast. The inn was situated on a peaceful cove of Spring Lake, so there wasn’t much traffic close to the shore. It felt like the three of them were the only people on the planet. The falling-down boat slips ruined the view a little, but he could picture them the way his mother had insisted: clean with fresh paint, a shiny red metal roof on top and an American flag blowing in the breeze.

  Since his plan was to run the whole place as a fishing camp, restoring the docks and adding a small marina store would be his first project. Fishermen didn’t really need fresh paint or new carpet, but they had to have a spot to keep the boat.

  “I could stay right here all day,” Elaine said and stretched her arms out wide.

  “Not much excitement compared to your waiting room or the emergency clinic,” his father answered.

  “That’s why I need it.” Elaine glanced at Dean and then quickly looked away, probably to see if he understood her motivation. He did. But she and her...neatness were annoying.

  He propped his hands on his hips and studied the view. Somehow the restlessness eased while he was standing here, looking past the overgrown yard to the calm waters of Spring Lake. Had to be the setting. The company was not soothing at all. Maybe the magic of home was finally starting to work.

  “Let’s see the inside,” Elaine said and towed his father to the ancient screen door. The paint, which had once been a bright blue, was peeling, but it could be restored easily. That door fit the character of the Bluebird perfectly even if the pop as it slammed shut could make him jerk as if he’d heard a gunshot.

  His father opened the door, and they stepped inside. The view was not inspiring. Dry, scratched hardwoods that had gleamed like mirrors when his mother ran the place, wallpaper that was in excellent shape if twenty years out of date and dust-covered furniture. His father used only the living quarters upstairs, so the bottom floor was frozen in time. Preserved, but not alive.

  Except for the kitchen.

  As he trailed the exploration party, he heard Elaine say, “Well, it looks like it could use some updating. Do all the appliances work?”

  He’d had the same question. As far as he could tell, his father lived on cereal and sandwiches. As long as the refrigerator was running, he was set. The fact that she didn’t make a big deal out of the biggest deal said something about how Dr. Watson played the game.

  “Yep, stove, fridge, whatever’s here works.” His dad ran a hand through his hair as if he wasn’t quite sure how to address the most obvious problem in the room. “And all the cabinets...well...”

  There wasn’t much to say about that. The fact that they were all missing made it clear what he was talking about.

  “I decided it was silly to have the old Bluebird sitting empty, but I knew reopening was going to take some renovation.” His dad shrugged.

  “So you started with the kitchen.” Elaine nodded as if she approved. “And are you going to—” she waved a hand vaguely “—finish?”

  “Nah, I remembered why I hadn’t taken on any DIY projects in twenty-plus years.” His father opened the refrigerator door to show the good doctor that it was fully functional.

  When Elaine glanced at him for help, Dean had to shrug his shoulders. It didn’t make a lot of sense to him, either, but he’d had some time for the state of the kitchen to sink in.

  “Why is that, Mr. Collins?” She tilted her head to the side as if she was so very curious about why anyone would leave a kitchen torn up like this one. It was a valid question.

  “I hate DIY projects.” His father grimaced. “That’s why I didn’t do them when Martha was alive and why I had no problem letting everything ride after she died. Eventually, even the regulars started staying at the chain hotel in Lawrence.” He toed the peeling linoleum. “I purely hate construction of any kind. Been running the place so long, it was nice to have a vacation. All that money we saved for someday, when we could retire to see the world, kept the lights on
. And I’d rather fish. So I did.”

  “Because you could,” Dean added. “I don’t blame you a bit. And you should say that Mom wouldn’t let you tackle any home improvements.”

  Then he leaned closer to the doctor. “Very bad for his blood pressure and hers, if I recall correctly.” He was irritated she didn’t at least smile in return. He hadn’t spent a lot of time charming women lately, but surely he hadn’t completely lost his touch. If she liked him, maybe she’d back off, drop her offer.

  Her small frown was cuter than it should be. Dr. Elaine Watson was obviously conscientious if a mention of his dad’s blood pressure could concern her even on her days off.

  “Do you still have the cabinets?” she asked as she turned away from Dean. “Maybe I could get someone to put them back in.” The look she shot him suggested that maybe he should have already taken care of it. Dean considered his father and wondered if there was more to the story than he knew. Why was she giving him a glare that said, “Why aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

  “Hey, I’m not all that handy myself,” Dean said with a laugh. “That must be genetic, but we could hire someone to put the cabinets in. I’m sure they’re exactly what I need when I open the Tall Pines Fish Camp.”

  “Fish camp?” Elaine wrinkled her nose as if she could already pick up a whiff of lake water and fish scales. “What a waste of this space.”

  Annoyed again, Dean sent a pointed look around the gutted kitchen. “Or maybe exactly the right solution. Fishermen don’t need granite countertops. I could have this place up and running in no time.”

  Elaine’s snort stopped him in his tracks. His father tried to hide a grin behind a cough. “Did I say something funny?”

  “I’m sure they’re going to love the antiques in the front room and the morning-glory wallpaper that covers your entry.”

  Morning glories. Finally! He’d been racking his brain to try to remember what the blue flowers were. His mother had loved them and babied a couple of vines in her garden. He wondered if they’d survived the neglect.

  Dean was determined to ignore the doctor’s very good point. He would have to get a bigger television and some comfortable chairs. If he recalled correctly, most of the furniture in the front room looked like reproductions from an era when people were smaller and chair legs could be much fussier.

  “Maybe the kitchen would work for your fish camp,” she said with a grimace, “but I bet I could open before you would.”

  “Really.” He didn’t believe her for a minute. She was a doctor. He doubted she’d ever swung a hammer in her life. He was unemployed, with all the time in the world. Demolition might be his only contribution, but he wasn’t afraid of hard physical work. There was no question as to who would win this race.

  “When I want something badly, I don’t waste time. You’d be shocked how quickly I could get this building restored and open for business.” One corner of her mouth turned up, and if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the fire of determination in her eyes. “Bet on it.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have to. This is my home. My father’s already promised to let me give it a shot. I’m going to make my changes on my own timeline. You lose.”

  Her lips tightened, and she closed her eyes for two seconds. “Of course. You’re right. I’d forgotten in the excitement of seeing the Bluebird.” She stepped back. “Thank you for the tour, Mr. Collins.” She held out her hand. Dean reluctantly shook it. Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Then she smiled at his father. “When this fails, Mr. Collins, please give me a shot. As long as the building’s still standing, I’m interested in having my chance.”

  Dean held up one hand. “When it fails?”

  “Of course, I should have said if,” Elaine replied, but the look on her face didn’t seem to match her words. She wasn’t going to back down.

  “Explain to me why I’m going to fail,” Dean answered.

  “Well, one look at you says you’re not big on...planning ahead.” Her frosty gaze might have raised goose bumps if it hadn’t been a lovely summer day. “A renovation like this requires planning, marketing, new staff. You’re going to need money. Do you even have a business plan?”

  Her doubts were clear. The fact was he didn’t have a plan. But he’d need one. He had some savings, but getting his camp set up would take a lot of cash. A new marina wouldn’t be cheap. Mortgaging his home to finance a gamble without a detailed schedule and some consideration of how he might cover the payments was crazy. His confidence took a hit, but the only way to deal with a situation like this was to pretend everything was under control.

  Convincing his dad he could handle the details was critical.

  “And you’re interested in having your chance for what? To move into an inn with eight guest rooms...all by yourself.” He didn’t have to ask about a husband or kids. No ring. No doubt she was focusing on her career. “Kind of a big house for a single woman. All alone. Out here by yourself with the wildlife.”

  Elaine opened her mouth and then closed it. She raised one finger. “I’m only going to say this because...” Her lips tightened to swallow whatever it was she planned to add. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

  She headed for the entryway. “Mr. Collins, I hope this works out, for your sake.”

  “Everybody just...wait.” His father’s voice was loud, and Dean could hear the anger bubbling under the surface. He wasn’t sure Elaine was going to stop, but she jerked to a halt next to the door.

  “Before this goes too far, I’ve got something to say.” His dad narrowed his eyes, and Dean got the impression that he’d better keep his mouth zipped until his dad was done.

  “Dean, you’re my son. I want you to have this place if it will...I don’t know, make you happy. But,” he said as he held up a hand, “this woman saved my life. And she loves the place.”

  “Saved your life?” Dean said as he rubbed his forehead. “What does that mean?”

  “I only did my job,” Elaine said and crossed her arms. “Any other doctor would have done the same.”

  “Somebody tell me what we’re talking about.” Dean propped his hands on his hips. “Now.”

  The sudden tightness in his chest made it hard to breathe.

  Elaine’s eyebrows rose, and Dean got the impression there was only one thing she was interested in telling him, and that was exactly where to get off.

  “I went into the emergency clinic with chest pains. That’s all. I’m fine.” His father tried a reassuring smile, but it looked so wrong on him that Dean said, “No way. You didn’t tell me any of this. When?” He turned to the doctor because he was certain he stood a better chance of getting a straight answer from her.

  “It’s been almost two years. He’s done great since then. Takes his meds. Lost some weight.” She shrugged. “And he’s making a change for the better with this new plan to hit the road. He’s a model patient, actually. That’s rare.”

  “We don’t have to talk about this now. Let’s come up with some suggestions on what to do here.” His father paced in a small circle on the dull hardwoods.

  He and Elaine stared at each other for a long second, and he wondered if she felt the same tension he did. When her cheeks turned a pale pink and she looked away, he thought maybe she did.

  “How about a real bet?” His father paused. “I’ll hit the road. You’ll both have time to make plans, figure out the money and talk to the bank. I’ll listen to both proposals and decide based on what’s best for the Bluebird. A month? How’s that?”

  Elaine looked as if she was about to argue. He could almost see the dueling urges on her face. She wanted the Bluebird, but she needed to do the right thing. He waited to see which would win.

  And he braced himself when she stepped up next to him.

  “It’s a bet.” She held out her hand.
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br />   “I love a challenge,” Dean said as he gripped her hand, surprised again at the warmth that spread from her to him. “This could be what I was looking for.”

  “I guess we’ll see.” The smile was back. A simple curve of her lips that gave her eyes a sparkle. The way Dean’s world shifted in that second worried him. He’d started the game. He had no choice but to win. Unless the Bluebird worked its magic, he was lost.

  * * *

  ELAINE TRIED TO understand the emotion in Dean’s eyes. For a split second she’d thought it was fear or maybe worry, but that didn’t make any sense. He was a guy who traveled the world, photographed wars and looked supremely confident in ratty clothes. On top of that, he was family. If anyone was a solid contender, it was him. Had her certainty that the fish camp was a bad idea convinced him to reconsider his plans?

  “Well,” Robert said, looking from her to Dean and back, “good. That’s settled. Got an appointment with a contractor tomorrow. Here’s what we’ll do. Get him to take a look, maybe give you estimates on what you’d like to renovate.”

  Elaine refused to take a step back even though she was closer to Dean Collins than she was strictly comfortable with. She could see he had hazel eyes, a mix of brown and green that was warm and possibly too intelligent for an easy win. Getting this close to him was a bad idea for a long list of reasons. Still, she was not going to back down. Not now. He’d made his opinion of her clear. He thought she was a fragile flower. He was wrong.

  When Robert coughed quietly, she and Dean both turned.

  “How will you decide a winner?” Elaine asked.

  Dean’s snort set her teeth on edge, and she did her best to forget her own snort of disbelief earlier. Maybe turnabout snorting was fair play.

  She and Dean watched Robert think. He paced. He cracked his knuckles. He opened his mouth and changed his mind twice.