It was hard not to be impressed, even if I did say so myself, and I loved seeing people’s first reactions.
I drove around the back to the barn and Jayden slowly followed me and parked. He got out of his car smiling and looking up the mountain peak that disappeared into the low cloud. “Wow.”
I grinned, a little proud. “It never gets old.”
“And the house,” he said. “It’s huge. And beautiful.”
“Come on, I’ll help you get your stuff inside. You must have had an early start and probably want to rest.”
“I was a bit early,” he admitted, and opening the backseat, he pulled out two large duffle bags and some kind of toolbox. But then he closed the door.
“Oh, did you want to bring the rest of your stuff in?” I asked. There were some boxes and bags in the back, from what I could see.
“No, that can stay for now,” he said. “But if you’d like to carry this, that’d be great.” He handed me the toolbox, which was odd, but I took it. He picked up his two bags and smiled at me as if he was waiting for me.
Right. Yes.
Take him inside the house, you idiot.
We trudged through the snow to the long porch at the back of the house. “Weather’s actually been really good this year,” I said. “No huge snow dumps so far, no blizzards. It’s supposed to be a mild winter, apparently. Which, I have to admit, I don’t mind.”
“Haven’t missed all that shovelling?” he said as he climbed the steps behind me.
“Not one bit.” I grinned, unlocked the door into the mudroom, and led the way inside.
Boots off, I showed him the front family room and the dining room but guessed a formal tour could wait. “I’ll show you to your room and let you get settled,” I said. “I can show you the rest of the house later, and the kitchen, of course. I need to get a start on that sign before I lose daylight. And being on the side of the mountain means it gets dark pretty early.”
“Oh yes, of course. You do what you need to do,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
I showed him to his room. It was down the hall in what I called the bedroom wing. It was tucked away down at the very end so it was quite the walk, but that meant it was private, and most importantly, it had its own bathroom.
He walked in, seemingly impressed, and put his bags on the double bed. “Oh wow,” he said, pointing to the small fireplace in his room. “Does that work?”
“I closed the flue off, only because I’d never used it,” I explained. “But yes, it does.” I pointed to the heating unit on the wall, which I’d had installed. “But this works much better.”
He smiled in a way that sent a buzz of warmth through me. “Well, it’s great. I might need a map to get back to the kitchen though.”
I chuckled, staving off my embarrassment at how I’d just reacted to him. “I’ll show you the way.”
Chapter Three
Jayden
Driving up to the house, I was lost for words. When Ren at the hardware store had called this a manor, I wasn’t sure what to expect. And the photos on the internet did not do it justice.
First of all, it was huge. Nestled up on the hill on stilts with panelling to hide the under-house, it was grand but not over imposing. Clearly built in a different era, when builders were craftsmen; and this was a work of art. It had a veranda across the entire front, with wide stairs at the entrance down to the front grounds. The house itself had wood-siding, painted white, with ornate window frames. The veranda posts had those fancy brackets, and the balustrade under the hand railing was in some filigree pattern that made it all look very stately.
It reminded me of those old Queenslander homes back in Australia, only bigger.
I followed Cass’s truck around to the back of the house where there was a covered parking bay for several cars and a huge barn. He’d clearly put a lot of time into getting the place up to scratch. Yes, the house was old, but it looked very well maintained.
It was certainly beautiful.
Cass showed me inside and to my room, which was unexpectedly lovely. I don’t know why I was surprised, but the quality of everything was top tier. “Oh, wow” was all I could say.
I was a bit bummed that the small fireplace in my room didn’t work, but I wasn’t here to vacation. I was here to work. Which reminded me . . . I should go inspect the kitchen.
“I might need a map to get back to the kitchen though,” I said, getting my mind back on track.
Work. That’s what I was here for.
“I’ll show you the way,” he said. His smile was something else . . .
Wow.
Even as cute as Cass was. And he was cute. A few years older than me but certainly handsome.
I wasn’t here for that either.
No, no. Nope. You’re here to work . . .
“Here, I’ll take that,” I said, taking the toolbox Cass had looked entirely surprised to realise he was still holding.
His eyes went to the offending toolbox. “Does your car break down often?”
“What?” I asked. My car? “Oh no, this is my kit. It has my knives and gear in it.”
“Oh!”
“A chef’s knives are their pride and joy,” I said with a bit of a smile. “And they’re expensive as hell.”
“I bet,” he replied. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
He led me back down the hall, this time explaining what was behind each door. Guest rooms, a communal laundry, a reading room with French doors that opened onto the front veranda.
A reading room? What kind of house had a reading room?
This one, apparently.
Cass gestured to the door after the reading room. “That’s the door to the private quarters,” he explained. “The attic was huge and so much wasted space, so I converted it to bedrooms and an office. And this was a second entrance to the veranda, so it became the staircase.”
“You’ve done a lot of work,” I offered.
“Oh yeah,” he said, a mix of embarrassed and proud. “But this old place was built to last forever. She’s as strong as an ox. There’s still a bit to do though.” He kept walking and we arrived back at the sitting room that came off the mudroom. It was then I noticed boxes beside some couches. And what looked like a shelving unit that needed putting together by the fireplace.
But the sitting room itself was massive, with great natural lighting; the front windows were huge, the view down to the road and river was spectacular. Some of the furniture was older, some of it new, but it somehow all matched and looked very welcoming. Whoever he had as his interior decorator had done a great job.
“Kitchen’s through there,” he said, pointing behind us. “But I’ll show you this side of the house first.” On the far side of the sitting room, on the same wall as the fireplace, was a set of double doors. “When it’s just me here, I keep these closed. Half the house to heat that way.”
He opened the doors to reveal what looked like another very large family room, more matching furniture with a huge TV and another fire.
Christ. How big was this place?
“This way is the dining hall,” he said, going through another door. “It has a door direct to the kitchen.” We walked into a room that was probably bigger than the last apartment I lived in. There was a table, antique by the look of it, that ran almost the length of the room, plus a matching cabinet at the end of the room. “This was my great-aunt’s,” Cass explained, running his hand along the back of one of the wooden dining chairs. “I considered taking it out, but well . . . I’d have to have the windows taken out or the roof lifted to get it out in one piece.”