Page 6 of The Cherry Blossom Boathouse

What if it really was an absolute nightmare inside? What if she’d made a terrible mistake?

Caleb grimaced. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go in there without a hard hat.”

Great.

“Is it really that bad?” she asked him.

“Don’t look so worried!” Mabel said quickly. “Anyway, your neighbor is the town’s handyman superhero. Right, Luke? You can help Sophie, can’t you?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Luke muttered, clearly not up for helping.

“I’m sure there are plenty of talented local contractors who can help,” Sophie said, keen to show she didn’t have any intention of dragging him into her project.

“Oh honey, boathouses are unique,” Mabel said. “And the Rhodes family are the ones who know them best. Luke, I’m sure—”

“You heard what she said,” Luke grumbled. “Plenty of talented local contractors.”

Sophie ignored him and focused on her new home.

“Go on, honey,” Mabel encouraged, giving Sophie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes you just have to take that first step.”

Sophie stared at her new front door, key trembling slightly in her hand. This was it. The moment her impulsive decision became real. Four thousand people’s dreams, her mother’s inheritance, and her entire future, all hanging on whatever waited on the other side.

She could feel Luke watching from his dock, too, probably waiting for her to turn tail and run.

It made her even more determined.

The key fought her at first, protesting with the kind of stubborn resistance that seemed to say, Are you sure about this? But then—click. The door swung open with a dramatic groan that made Caleb wince.

“Oh dear,” he murmured behind her as sunlight filtered through gaps in the wooden slats, illuminating years of dust and decay. “It’s worse than I thought.”

But Sophie wasn’t listening anymore. Her heart was too busy soaring at the sight of the snug space and the large two-story (all-be-it cracked) arched window to the west of the boathouse that turned the lake into a living painting. Before it was a large living area, which would become her bookshop—her bookshop!—overlooked by a mezzanine balcony, winding stairs leading up to it.

It all spread before her like a blank canvas waiting for her dreams.

“Oh, you beautiful thing,” she breathed, already seeing past the cobwebs and the years of neglect. She moved through the space, her steps light on the protesting floorboards.

“You love it, don’t you?” Mabel asked softly.

“I do,” Sophie said, and she meant it with every fiber of her being. “I know it needs work—a lot of work—but it’s got stories to tell.”

“Yes, I can see it now,” Caleb said. “I’m thinking full seventies revival. Sunken conversation pit, macramé wall hangings everywhere, one of those egg chairs hanging from the ceiling…Oh! And shag carpet. Lots of shag carpet. In orange.”

“Lord save us,” Mabel muttered.

“Actually,” Sophie cut in gently, “I was thinking of something a bit more…” She searched for a diplomatic way to say “less likely to cause seizures.” “Traditional?”

“Traditional?” Caleb deflated slightly.

“I want to honor what the boathouse already is,” Sophie explained. “All that beautiful original woodwork, history in every beam.”

“Oh, thank heavens.” Mabel pressed a hand to her chest. “What a relief! Makes such a change from that horrible ex of Luke’s with her ‘modern vision.’ Nearly gave poor Noah a heart attack with her plans for his hardware store.”

Before Sophie could process that piece of information about her neighbor’s ex, a scratching sound from upstairs made them all look up.

“You better add pest control to the list of…” Caleb’s voice trailed off, realizing perhaps that wasn’t helping.

“Let’s leave her to it,” Mabel said, grabbing Caleb’s arm and ushering him out. “But do come by Blossoms & Brew for lunch, Sophie; it’s on me,” she called over her shoulder. “You can tell us about your plans for this place.”