Page 50 of The Matchmaker Club

“I’ll be right back.”

I headed to the mudroom and slipped on my hiking sandals. Lucas came down the stairs in a pair of gym shorts, sneakers, and a bright yellow T-shirt that had a logo over the right breast that saidSpokane Foundation,along with a quote written across the front:Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up. -Pablo Picasso

The words wrapped around my heart. That was my mother’s favorite quote.

“You like art?” I asked.

“I do. Not so much the crowd, though.”

“You don’t like artists?”

“Depends on the artist. It’s mainly the commercial part that I don’t care for.”

Huh.

“So, do you want to start with the house or the grounds?”

“You’re the guide. I’ll leave it to you.”

I shifted my jaw. “Do you want the full history or the short tour?”

“Thefulltour.”

“Alright, follow me.” I grabbed my keys from the bowl.

“Are we driving somewhere?”

“You asked for the full tour, so you’re getting it.”

We got into old Blush, and I reversed all the way to the end of the driveway, which was about a quarter of a mile long.

“Do you have AC?” he asked.

“Yup, see that lever on your door? Roll that baby down, and you’ll get nature’s own personal air conditioning.” I shifted into park and rolled down my own window. “How much do you know about your great-grandfather’s history with Cedar Gardens?”

“Let’s pretend I know nothing.”

I looked up at the trees lining the drive. “Mortimer, your great-grandfather, lived about a mile and a half from this house. Marlena, my great-grandmother, lived next door to him… but next door on a farm meant a good quarter of a mile. Since there were no kids close by growing up, Marlena and Mortimer played together outside until the sun went down. Then one day, Marlena dared Mortimer to explore this place with her. At that time, it had been abandoned by some eccentric rich man, who supposedly went a little mad and became a recluse. No one claimed the property after he died because none of his living relatives wanted to move here, and they couldn’t sell it, so instead they did nothing.”

Lucas turned in his seat, listening intently.

“After some years, nature took over, and the place started to fall apart. The few who lived in this town thought it was haunted, and most kids didn’t have the guts to make it down this long drive. Once they heard a noise in the woods or coming from the house—most likely animals or rodents—they ran away at top speed. Except for Marlena. Mortimer would’ve chickened out, but because he didn’t want to be outdone by a girl, he accepted her dare.”

Lucas smiled that genuine smile that lit up those dark eyes of his. “From what I know, that sounds like him.”

“Cedar Gardens then became their own private world, away from everyone else. When they got older, they even did some yard work, pruned trees, trimmed hedges, mowed the lawn with one of those old rolling blade mowers, and cleaned up what they could inside the house. They spent seven summers together like this and fell in love. They would sit in the garden or under the cedar tree by the creek and talk of how one day they’d buy the place, fix it up, and raise a family here. But it turns out your great-grandfather had other plans.”

I choked up a bit, thinking of the things Austin and I used to talk about… and how Marlena must’ve felt when Mortimer left.

“He left so he could buy this house for her,” Lucas said. “My great-grandfather was poorer than Marlena.”

“So, you do know this story?”

“Only what I’ve read from Marlena’s letters… and the letters my great-grandfather wrote, but those were returned to him, unopened.”

“Could I read them?”

He hesitated, and I sucked in a cool breeze that swept through the window and across my skin. “I don’t mean to keep them; I just want to know all of Marlena’s history.”