Mystic Ridge

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

“LOOK AT THIS AS AN adventure,” Bev suggests.

Cate’s helping her set up the tent and thinking: if there’s one thing Bev has in spades, it’s foresight. Bev knew there’d be no power when they first arrived, so she made sure the flashlights were stocked with batteries. She’s got matches on hand to light a fire. She even brought along marshmallows to toast on the open flames.

But why bring a tent when she’s just inherited an entire summer resort?

Well, the lawyer advised them the structures might not be liveable right away. The main cabin and all the baby cabins have fallen into disuse, and their state of disrepair could only be properly judged by an experienced home inspector.

Of course, Bev, being blessed as she was with the gift of forethought, hired a home inspector even before they started packing up their apartment. He looked the place over and sent a report so they’d know what they were dealing with.

The resort at Mystic Ridge isn’t as bad as it could be, structurally speaking, but the amount of dirt and dust in the main cabin means Bev and Cate need to do a massive clean-up before spending leisure time indoors.

This first night is an adventure, just like Bev said. No water, no power, just a campfire in the sandy soil down by the water, and a tent set up nearby.

They’d peeked inside the main cabin earlier, of course. It would be their new home. How could they resist?

The space was huge, with a rustic sort of grandeur. They’d entered into a large open-plan room with lots of dark wood and a spectacular stone fireplace. Someone had the foresight to cover the gorgeous leather furniture with drop cloths—probably Bev’s great-aunt Zola, if foresight ran in the family.

Looking around, Cate said, “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Bev’s eyes bugged. “Not as bad?”

“The cleanliness factor.”

“Oh, I thought you meant the building itself.”

“No, the building is beautiful. Obviously. A little dark, but look at the carvings going up the stairs.” More of that German Arts and Crafts gingerbread house style. “It’s amazing. Someone obviously put a lot of time and effort into building this place.”

“And money,” Bev pointed out, grabbing a wobbly railing as she headed up the stairs. “Oh, careful there. We’ll have to get that fixed.”

“We should make a list,” Cate said, trying to be organized for once.

“Later,” Bev replied as she proceeded up the staircase. “First, let’s check the place out.”

The upstairs looked out over the downstairs, which meant that when you entered the cabin you could look all the way up to the magnificent roof beams.

Cate couldn’t help feeling glad she wasn’t scared of heights. Looking out over the second storey railing would have made anyone a little loopy if they had the slightest tinge of vertigo.

As they looked from the second floor down to the first, Bev took hold of the wooden railing and gave it bit of a shake. “Feels sturdy to me. Amazing to think this place was built almost a century ago and it’s not falling to ruins.”

“They don’t build ‘em like they used to,” Cate said as she peeked in the empty rooms off to one side. “Which is the master bedroom, do you think?”

Bev pointed to the landing at the far end, and Cate followed in that direction.

“Wow,” Cate said as she took it all in. “This is more than a bedroom. This is its own little apartment.”

The suite of rooms included a separate sitting area, an office space with a roll-top secretary, and a generous bedroom with a carved wooden bed so huge it must have been constructed inside the resort. How would you get it through the door?

As Cate reached out to touch the rounded wooden finial, Bev shrieked from the adjoining room.

Cate raced to see what was wrong.

“A bathroom!” Bev shrieked. “With one of those beautiful old claw-foot tubs! Oh my God, it’s gorgeous!”

Marble and glass, Art Deco elements, light sconces that seemed to be inspired by ancient Egypt. It was almost too much.

“I can’t believe you own all this,” Cate said, in awe.

Bev shot her a look. “We own all this, babe. It’s ours.”

“Right,” Cate said. “But, I mean, your aunt left it to you, so, legally...”

Bev’s brow furrowed. She kept pretty quiet for the rest of the tour.

On their way out, Cate wandered to the old stone fireplace. She just wanted to touch the pebbled rocks. She liked things that were rounded, soft and hard at once.

“Hey, watch out!” Bev called from across the room.

When Cate looked down at the floor, she realized she was about to trip over... what was that? The floor in front of the fireplace was draped with the same canvas as the leather furniture, maybe to protect an old rug, but there was something anomalous at one end. That’s what Bev was drawing her attention to: the large lump sticking up from the floor, as if some ghoul were sticking his head out of the ground.

“What is it?” Bev asked, stepping cautiously closer.

“I don’t know.”

Cate couldn’t say for sure why goosebumps were growing across her skin, even though she was dressed in long sleeves and a spring jacket. She should have been warm, indoors, but her body felt cold through and through.

Grabbing the dusty canvas, she lifted the corner and dragged the heavy fabric from the floor.

Bev must have seen it first, because she jumped back, clutching her chest. “Oh my God!”

She was already laughing by the time Cate caught sight of it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cate said as she pulled back the canvas.

“It’s too perfect!”

“Perfect? If you mean creepy as hell, yeah, sure, couldn’t be more perfect.”

Helping Cate to uncover their new discovery, Bev asked, “What’s a cabin in the woods without a bearskin rug?”

“You’ve got a point, there,” Cate conceded. “Christ, would you look at those teeth?”

Bev made a show of creeping up behind her. “All the better to eat you with, my dear!”

“You’ve never needed teeth to eat me with.”

“That’s because I’ve never eaten you... like this!” Bev dug her teeth gently into Cate’s neck, nibbling just hard enough to make Cate giggle uncontrollably. It felt good to laugh like that, so hard it hurt.

It had been far too long.

Far, far too long.

“Shame we’re not sleeping here tonight,” Bev whispered. “Roaring fire, bearskin rug, bare-skinned babe.”

Nice that Bev was making the effort. Still, Cate rolled her eyes and stepped away. “Yeah, right.”

But Bev wasn’t kidding. She’d rolled up that rug and convinced Cate to help her carry it outside.

They wouldn’t be sleeping indoors tonight, but they’d have their roaring fire, they’d have their bearskin rug and, if Bev got her way, the bare skin soon would follow.

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