The Chosen

long run.

It was the short run, however, that she worried about. How could such an expensive venture survive during start-up? Just how extensive was Feldspar’s marketing influence? And could she really believe that the first four weekends were already booked?

Worry about The Carriage House, Vera, she reminded herself. One step at a time.

Kyle opened the first door on the right, which, like all of the doors, was solid oak, and ornately trimmed. He stepped back to give her room. “Check it out.”

Vera set her bags down and slowly rose. For a moment she lost her breath. What faced her past the entry was not a bedroom but a great chamber like an eighteenth-century French boudoir. Soft pastel papers covered the walls, with high pine skirtings. Dark, plush V’Soske throw rugs bedecked the rich hardwood floor. Most of the furniture was restored antique: a beige scroll couch, a cherry wood highboy, a walnut chiffonier and inlaid night stand. Heavy velvet drapes, a deep avocado hue, were tied back before the white vanity and mirror. The room itself seemed nearly as large as her entire former apartment back in the city. Best of all was the huge four-poster bed hung with quilted dust ruffles and white mesh trains.

“Pretty decent pad, huh?” Kyle observed.

“It’s so beautiful,” Vera slowly replied. “I’ve always wanted a room like this.”

Kyle dawdled to the twin French doors and pulled them open, letting in the crisp winter air. “You’ll have a great view once the trenchers are done.”

Trenchers? Vera stepped out onto the high veranda, oblivious to the cold. The forest rose further up the ridge. Below, several one-story additions stretched. “Spas, pools, Jacuzzis, exercise rooms,” Kyle explained. “We’ll have tennis courts too, in the spring.”

This was magnificent. To her left, though, several big yellow trenching machines idled beside a long deep ditch which disappeared around an outcropping of trees.

“What’s all that?”

“We had to reroute the sewer and waterlines to the county junctures. The old lines are a hundred years old.”

It was another thing that must have cost a fortune. “In the meantime,” Kyle went on, “we’re still on the old system. But everything’11 be hooked up before we open.”

“What about the plumbing in the building?” she asked.

“All brand-new and refitted.”

They came back in and she closed the doors. “And the wiring?”

“The same. The building was gutted when Magwyth Enterprises bought it. Someone tried to burn it down years ago.”

“Why?” Vera asked, and immediately regretted it. She had a feeling what he would say in response. Ghosts…

“I’d rather keep you in suspense. How about later you let me show you around the whole building—the grand tour.” His cocky grin sharpened, and Vera remembered what Dan B. had observed. Scoping my…rib melons? She almost laughed. Dan B. had always been jealous; and it was like a brother’s jealousy—guarded, and negative about any man who expressed an interest in her. He hadn’t even liked Paul. Now she wished she’d listened to him. But was it her imagination, or was Kyle really leering at her?

“Sure, Kyle,” she said. “I’d love for