Page 6 of Falling for the Grumpy Stranger

“Yes, and I really shouldn’t even tell you that. You can certainly ask him permission to peruse the stuff, but I won’t get involved with an introduction. I have to warn you though—he’s not very friendly. Kind of cold, in fact. I brought him the basket on his move-in day, and he barely acknowledged the gift. I don’t know much about him, but it seems he’s gone through something, something that has left him scarred both physically and mentally. Don’t expect much success on your quest. Why don’t you just hang out at the barbershop? Some of those old guys know more about that house than anyone.”

“I’m a journalist, Hannah.” That felt good, too. “I can’t write a story based on Elmer and Jacob’s retelling of stories they heard from their grandfathers. I need facts.”

“Then you should probably get over there soon. That old stuff has been collecting dust and cobwebs for years. I used to bring clients in to look at the place, and they’d practically run back out once they got inside. I’m sure Mr. Lockwood will be anxious to get rid of that junk. Good luck and I wish I could help you more.”

“Thanks anyway, Hannah.”

“Don’t forget to call when you decide to sell the cottage.”

“You bet,” I said with an eye roll that was pronounced enough she might have heard it through the phone. “Bye.”

I hung up and stared at Nonna’s oven. We’d never replaced it, and if I stared at it long enough, I could see the tie on Nonna’s apron as she leaned down into the oven to baste a turkey or check the crust on a pecan pie. I walked to the pantry and opened it. Good ole Isla. Her philosophy was that a house was not a home unless there was a bag of chocolate chips in the cupboard. I pulled out the bag and the mixing bowl. Isla kept a collection of recipes in a wooden box next to the cookie jar. Some were originals, straight from Nonna’s collection, and some had been updated and made even better by Isla. The chocolate chip cookie recipe had changed little since we were young. Back then we’d stand around Nonna in the kitchen with our spoons ready for a dip into the delicious dough. I browsed the recipe. We had all the ingredients needed for a batch of cookies.

Hannah’s warning and my own interactions with Mr. Lockwood had smashed my confidence. The cookies had to work, otherwise I’d be stuck sitting at the barbershop, breathing in the scent of pungent aftershave and stale cigar smoke as I listened to half a dozen men arguing about who had the best recollection of the curse of Grimstone Manor.

Chapter Six

ELLA

My confidence had been so shredded, I kept Isla on the phone for fifteen minutes to make sure I didn’t blow the cookies. With my sister’s tutelage, I managed to bake a delicious batch of cookies, one worthy of a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift. If only I hadn’t tainted the cheery welcome by calling the new neighbor strange and grim first.

Whenever any of us were feeling nervous or unsure of ourselves, we headed straight to our big sister, Aria. Aria had taken over where wonderful Nonna had left off. She made sure we stayed safe and happy and that we avoided bad decisions. We were all past needing that kind of supervision now, but Aria was still our greatest source of comfort and advice. I needed a short pep talk from my big sister before walking up the hill to Grimstone Manor. Lunch hour was over, so this was the best time to stop by the café. Aria and Dex would be getting ready for tomorrow’s business, and there would only be a handful of customers, if any.

Yesterday’s dense fog had lightened to wisps of cold moisture and the occasional sharp breeze. I pulled my beanie lower with one hand and held the foil-wrapped plate of cookies with the other. The weather was less brutal today, but there were stillonly a few people on Juniper Road, the main stretch of road through town. Isla’s future bakery, a small shop that she had painted a lush lavender color, still had cardboard taped over the windows. People had been nosily trying to get a look inside, but Isla decided to hold a grand opening and big reveal once the bakery opened in spring. The townsfolk were waiting anxiously for that day. I continued to the other end of Juniper, where Aria’s popular café sat under a plum and white striped awning. The chalkboard menu outside boasted that today’s special was cheesy potato soup served with chopped salad. It sounded delicious, but my mostly empty stomach told me, “Not one bite until you get past this nerve-racking afternoon.”

There were only a few occupied tables when I stepped into the café. A fire was blazing in the hearth at the far end of the dining area, and the hanging strings of lights glittered overhead. Terry, one of the servers, was filling salt and pepper shakers as I walked up to the counter and set down my plate. “Hi, Ella, your sister’s in the back. Should I call her? I think there’s still some soup left. Dex made the most delicious potato soup today. I ate it for my break.” She patted her stomach. “Now all I can think about is a long winter nap.”

“No soup right now, thanks, but if you could let Aria know I’m here, that would be great.”

Terry disappeared into the kitchen and seconds later Aria emerged looking worried. “Everything all right?” It was a habit she’d found hard to break after years of watching over us.

“Everything is fine.”

She lifted her arms. “Then I hear congratulations are in order. Layla told me the good news.” Nonna had raised us as a family of huggers, and I always appreciated Aria’s the most. It was the hug that always made me feel more secure—as if nothing could knock me off balance because my big sister was there to make sure I always landed on my feet.

Aria’s thick copper hair was twisted in a loose chignon at the back of her head. Several long strands had come loose. She tucked them hastily behind her ears. “When do you start? This was the publication you were hoping to work for, right?”

“It was in my top three, so I’m very happy.”

“But,” she said. “I sense there’s abutcoming.”

Dex chuckled as he stepped out of the kitchen. “Well, I’ve been called a lot of things in my life …” Dex was the size of a linebacker, and there was no denying that he was tough as nails, but Aria had softened his edges some. He was always in a good mood and always kind. He lifted his nose in the air. “Smells like cookies in here, which is a welcome aroma because I’ve been cutting onions.”

I lifted the edge of the foil, and both Aria and Dex grabbed a warm cookie. “I thought Isla was in the city with Luke looking at bakery equipment.” Aria lifted the cookie to her lips.

“I made them,” I said.

They both hesitated before eating the cookie.

“Here I came to the café because I needed a confidence boost from my sister,” I said wryly. “And they’re good because I had Isla on the phone giving me step-by-step instructions. I did almost use baking powder instead of soda, but Isla seemed to sense that I was about to make the mistake, and she told me to check the package. Doesn’t seem like it would make much difference.”

“Depends if you want your cookies to have a cookie texture or a biscuit texture,” Dex said. “Hmm, delicious.”

“I take it these cookies were not for us,” Aria said.

“No, I baked them for Whisper Cove’s newest resident. He bought Grimstone Manor, and my first writing assignment is about the manor’s curse. Hannah Jensen said there were a lot of old papers and photos left behind in the house through the years, and I’m hoping it’ll help with my research.”

“Never thought anyone would buy that old house,” Aria said.

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