As the door closed behind him, Cal smiled at Riley. “So, something to drink?”
After an hour of calculating dimensions, frames, “gallery value,” and comparing what was lost to what Leah had sold similar paintings for, Riley was able to help Cal complete the list. Cal had also taken her on a tour of the house to study the originals hanging in the rooms. Her favorite was a large oil hanging in the dining room, just above the table where they worked.
She studied it again as Cal gathered up the paperwork and adding machine. The small title plaque attached to the bottom of the frame read Miracle Creek Bridge.
“Her command of bokeh in the background is incredible. It brings the subject into such clear focus. And she’s bold with her contrast. It’s what I’ve tried to do with my own work. I really had to break out of my shell, but I feel so accomplished when I just go for it. It’s thrilling.” She turned and looked at Cal, who was watching her with a faraway look.
“Thank you,” he said. “She would’ve loved that compliment.”
She smiled and turned back to the painting. “Is this nearby?”
“Oh, sure. Miracle Creek comes all the way down from Mt. Stuart. After it leaves our little valley here, it joins up with the Wenatchee. Pretty hike along there. The bridge is one of the few original standing structures from the early days. Used to be several mines up that way. A lot of history there.”
“I can imagine.”
He leaned back in his chair. “There’s a legend surrounding it, you know. That bridge.”
She turned back to him. “What legend?”
He gazed at the picture. “Just some stories about wish-making. Goes back for generations.” He looked at her and chuckled. “Don’t look so impressed. Our little bridge isn’t as big a draw as the ski slopes or Leavenworth. I’m guessing you’ve been over to the Bavarian village to see all the hubbub?”
“Not since I moved here, no.” Riley had looked up the nearby German-themed village and vacation destination online when she’d applied for the teaching job. With its Alps feel and abundance of festivities, Leavenworth had the makings of a romantic storybook getaway in any season, which had fired her idea for a vacation rental.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. School started up as soon as I got here, and then there was the play. Yvette wanted to take me over there for Octoberfest, but it didn’t happen.”
He scratched his chin. “Yeah, I bet the both of you have been a bit busy.” He picked up the ledger and took it to a bookshelf in the front room. “Well, we’ll have to remedy that. Here in Miracle Creek we shine pretty well for the holidays, but Leavenworth . . . that’s the dazzler.”
The front door opened, and Mark came in, wiping his feet on the rug and pulling off his gloves.
“Mark, this lady has never been to Leavenworth,” Cal exclaimed.
“You don’t say,” Mark said, unimpressed, as he hung up his coat. His hood had fallen off but his knit cap stayed on, his right-side mask toward them. His complexion was rosy in patches from the cold.
“Christmas tree lighting’s coming up in a few weeks. Shame to miss it her first season here.” Cal smiled at Riley. “Most festive thing you’ll ever see.”
She politely smiled back.
“It happens every year, Dad. A billion people show up, they light the tree, and everybody crowds into the shops to get warm while the owners hope to sell a hundred more nutcrackers than they did last year.”
Cal looked affronted. “You did not just say that.”
Mark folded his arms. “What if I did?”
“I’d take you out back and tan your hide.”
“Too late, fire already did that.”
Riley’s eyes grew wide until she saw the two men exchange smirks.
Cal turned to Riley. “I knew this guy once. He’d get so excited for the tree lighting that he’d go early and save a place for his family with camp chairs. Once in the pouring rain.” He thumbed not-so-secretively at Mark.
Mark looked at her. “Don’t believe him.”
Cal cleared the water glasses from the table. “He’d pack a thermos of hot cocoa and bring mini candy canes for everyone. And I mean everyone.”
A real smile crept across Riley’s face as Mark shook his head, glancing at her. “I’d throw them at people.”
“Yeah,” Cal called from the kitchen. “Hit ’em right in the Christmas spirit.”
“Are you done?” Mark called back.
“Just about.” He returned to the dining room and offered a hand to Riley. “Thank you for your help. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I owe you, so anything you need, you name it.”
She took his hand, touched by the sincerity in his offer. “I’m glad I could help. It’s not often I get to study firsthand the work of an artist I admired.”
He placed his other hand over hers and gave her a second shake. “You’re welcome any time.”
He headed for the front door. “Well, I’m going to go have a roast beef dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy. I’d invite you, but I’ve been told you two have other plans.” He pulled on a wool peacoat and a bomber hat. “I’d say that was great, but I know how this guy cooks. So, I’ll just wish you luck.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Goodbye.” Cal waved and shut the front door.
Riley held back her laughter, and Mark let out a low sigh.
“That seemed easy enough, getting him out of the house,” she said. “What exactly did you tell him?”
Mark shrugged. “That I was making you dinner. It’s the only way I knew he wouldn’t argue.”
“You knew that, huh?”
“Been a while since I’ve made anybody dinner.”
Riley imagined where Cal’s thoughts had gone with that information. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Your dad didn’t exactly build my hopes.”
“My dad didn’t know I bought steaks. I thought we’d grill. Is that all right?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good
