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Authors: Linda LaRoque
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didn’t know for sure but assumed it had been built back in the forties, maybe the thirties.
He ran a hand appreciatively over the stucco of the fireplace. “Yeah, Granddad took over in the 1970s and worked hard to keep everything in good shape, just as his father had. Leona and Buck have kept it up, too.”
“When did your great-grandfather build the motel?”
He propped a sneakered foot on the hearth and, with hip cocked, leaned forward with his forearm across his thigh. His free hand waved to encompass the room. “He built this cabin in 1930 and lived here until he finished the next. In the meantime, he made a living renting out camp spaces to travelers. The park had electricity and a bath house. When he finished number five in the 1950s, he lived there until his death. The only one Gramps built is number six, where I live.”
“Are all the cabins this nice?”
“They’re just as nice, but the others don’t have the ornamental tile work. Great-granddaddy outdid himself on this one.” He grinned. “If it weren’t for the ghost, I’d trade with you.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Why do you think this is the one that’s supposedly haunted? Is there something significant about it?”
“Don’t have a clue.” Carson chuckled. “Maybe he’ll tell you one night.”
Chapter Seven
Susan shoved her breakfast plate aside. If she continued to eat three meals a day in the café, she’d need to buy a new wardrobe. Well, new jeans and tops, as that’s all she wore. A few pounds wouldn’t hurt her, since she’d lost weight in the months preceding Dewayne’s release from prison. With her stomach tied in knots, it’d been hard to force food down. She lifted her laptop and placed it on the table. While she waited for it to boot, she carried her dishes to the kitchen and placed them on the stainless steel draining area of the large sink.
Gina, draped in a full-length rubber apron, stood loading trays to slide through the industrial dishwasher. She aped a smile, her mouth a straight line.
“When you get a minute, Gina, come take a look at the pictures I snapped yesterday. Carson will be deciding which ones to use on the website.”
Gina’s cold shoulder warmed considerably. Her lips actually turned up a fraction at the corners. “Be there in a sec, Shannon.”
Susan had no sooner slid into her chair than Carson joined her in the adjacent seat. He scooted closer and draped his left arm over the back of her chair. When he leaned in closer to see the screen, she froze. His warm scent and aftershave filled her nostrils. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she struggled not to close her eyes and sniff. If she turned her head a fraction, her lips would come in contact with his cheek. Well, she’d have to stretch a little, but his tanned skin was tempting. She longed to lay her face against his for just a moment, to feel the human contact...
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She started and turned the screen so he could see it better. “I’ll put it on slideshow.”
While Carson viewed the pictures, she sipped her coffee. To keep her attention off the man, she glanced around the room. The breakfast crowd had thinned but for a few late coffee drinkers, and Hans lay on the rug by the door, napping and soaking up rays from the sun that shone through a window.
Carson marveled at the quality of Shannon’s photography. She’d captured the few trees around the cabins in the pictures. In the evening shots, the two neon signs accented the lights glowing from the cabin windows, making his place resemble a small desert oasis.
“I’m impressed, Shannon. You’ve made these old buildings take on a new life. Are you a professional photographer?”
At his compliment, her face took on a rosy glow. “I’ve had a little training.” She shrugged. “Took some classes in college. I’ve always wanted more time to pursue the art.” She smiled and sat up straighter. “Lucky for me I have that now. I’m pleased
He ran a hand appreciatively over the stucco of the fireplace. “Yeah, Granddad took over in the 1970s and worked hard to keep everything in good shape, just as his father had. Leona and Buck have kept it up, too.”
“When did your great-grandfather build the motel?”
He propped a sneakered foot on the hearth and, with hip cocked, leaned forward with his forearm across his thigh. His free hand waved to encompass the room. “He built this cabin in 1930 and lived here until he finished the next. In the meantime, he made a living renting out camp spaces to travelers. The park had electricity and a bath house. When he finished number five in the 1950s, he lived there until his death. The only one Gramps built is number six, where I live.”
“Are all the cabins this nice?”
“They’re just as nice, but the others don’t have the ornamental tile work. Great-granddaddy outdid himself on this one.” He grinned. “If it weren’t for the ghost, I’d trade with you.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Why do you think this is the one that’s supposedly haunted? Is there something significant about it?”
“Don’t have a clue.” Carson chuckled. “Maybe he’ll tell you one night.”
Chapter Seven
Susan shoved her breakfast plate aside. If she continued to eat three meals a day in the café, she’d need to buy a new wardrobe. Well, new jeans and tops, as that’s all she wore. A few pounds wouldn’t hurt her, since she’d lost weight in the months preceding Dewayne’s release from prison. With her stomach tied in knots, it’d been hard to force food down. She lifted her laptop and placed it on the table. While she waited for it to boot, she carried her dishes to the kitchen and placed them on the stainless steel draining area of the large sink.
Gina, draped in a full-length rubber apron, stood loading trays to slide through the industrial dishwasher. She aped a smile, her mouth a straight line.
“When you get a minute, Gina, come take a look at the pictures I snapped yesterday. Carson will be deciding which ones to use on the website.”
Gina’s cold shoulder warmed considerably. Her lips actually turned up a fraction at the corners. “Be there in a sec, Shannon.”
Susan had no sooner slid into her chair than Carson joined her in the adjacent seat. He scooted closer and draped his left arm over the back of her chair. When he leaned in closer to see the screen, she froze. His warm scent and aftershave filled her nostrils. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she struggled not to close her eyes and sniff. If she turned her head a fraction, her lips would come in contact with his cheek. Well, she’d have to stretch a little, but his tanned skin was tempting. She longed to lay her face against his for just a moment, to feel the human contact...
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She started and turned the screen so he could see it better. “I’ll put it on slideshow.”
While Carson viewed the pictures, she sipped her coffee. To keep her attention off the man, she glanced around the room. The breakfast crowd had thinned but for a few late coffee drinkers, and Hans lay on the rug by the door, napping and soaking up rays from the sun that shone through a window.
Carson marveled at the quality of Shannon’s photography. She’d captured the few trees around the cabins in the pictures. In the evening shots, the two neon signs accented the lights glowing from the cabin windows, making his place resemble a small desert oasis.
“I’m impressed, Shannon. You’ve made these old buildings take on a new life. Are you a professional photographer?”
At his compliment, her face took on a rosy glow. “I’ve had a little training.” She shrugged. “Took some classes in college. I’ve always wanted more time to pursue the art.” She smiled and sat up straighter. “Lucky for me I have that now. I’m pleased
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