Eclipse Bay

mind. What kind of game was Rafe playing?

chapter 14
    Rafe brought the Porsche to a halt in the drive, switched off the engine, and sat for a while, staring at the front door of Mitchell’s house.
    Asking his grandfather to come to dinner was a crazy idea. If he had any sense he would fire up the engine and drive straight back to Dreamscape. But then he would have to explain to Hannah why he had chickened out.
    The thought of going through another scene with her after the one that had taken place this morning when she had arrived to find the Willis brothers hard at work was not appealing. He had taken a chance, pushed his luck, and, predictably enough, things had exploded in his face. He would be more cautious next time. Who said a Madison couldn’t learn from his mistakes?
    He climbed out from behind the wheel and walked toward the porch steps.
    The front door opened just as he raised his hand to knock. A cadaverously thin figure with a buzz cut and a face that looked as if it had been hewn out of the side of a mountain stared at him.
    Bryce had worked for Mitchell for nearly ten years. No one knew where he had come from. He had started out as a part-time handyman and had gradually carved out a position as full-time majordomo. If Bryce had a last name, it had been lost in the mists of time. As far as Rafe knew, he had no close relatives. Bryce had brought order to the chaos of Mitchell’s household. He was unswervingly loyal to his employer. Beyond that, he was a mystery.
    “Hello, Bryce.”
    “Good afternoon.”
    “I’m looking for Mitchell.”
    “Your grandfather is out in the garden.”
    “Thanks.”
    Rafe nodded in a friendly manner and walked off down the porch. No point exchanging further pleasantries. Bryce was not one for extended conversations.
    Rafe opened the gate and entered the lush wonderland. When he didn’t see Mitchell, he took the narrow gravel path that led toward the greenhouse at the far end of the garden.
    He found his grandfather inside the opaque structure, tending to a tray of plants. Mitchell had a long-spouted watering can in one hand and a small spade in the other.
    Rafe took a breath and stepped into the humid atmosphere of the greenhouse. He recalled Hannah’s comment. Your interest in cooking parallels his in gardening. Creative outlets that you both approach with passion.
    The idea of having something in common with Mitchell was a hard concept to digest.
    “Lookin’ good in here,” he said. He told himself Hannah would have been proud of him for trying to start things off on a civil note. Then again, maybe not. She was pretty pissed at him right now. “You ever think about opening a commercial nursery?”
    “Hell, no. Last thing I want to do is turn a good hobby into a business. Ruin all the fun.” Mitchell set down the watering can with a thunk and scowled ferociously. “Speaking of business, what’s this I hear about you opening an inn and a little restaurant out there at Dreamscape?”
    “Word gets around fast.”
    “If you wanted to keep it a secret, you shouldn’t have called the Willis brothers out to give you an opinion on the condition of the plumbing and wiring in that old place.”
    “You’re right.” Rafe examined a row of tiny pots containing small green plants with glossy leaves. “On the other hand, not much point trying to keep the plan a big dark secret here in Eclipse Bay.”
    Mitchell gave him a sharp glance from beneath bushy brows. “You’re serious about opening an inn?”
    “Yeah.” Rafe moved on to a tray of feathery ferns. “Been thinking about it for a year now.”
    Mitchell whistled softly. “Well, shoot and damn. Why the hell didn’t you ever say anything?”
    “Got to work things out with Hannah first.”
    “Huh. That’s a fact.”
    Rafe looked up from the ferns. “Aren’t you going to tell me that turning Dreamscape into an inn and restaurant is just about the dumbest idea any Madison has ever had?”
    “Dumb is beside the point. Madisons don’t concern themselves with dumb. They concentrate on what they want.” Mitchell’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he squinted at Rafe. “You really want this?”
    “Yes.”
    Mitchell studied him for a long moment. Then he nodded once and stripped off a garden glove. “Go for it.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You heard me. If you want it that bad, there’s no point in me trying to talk you out of it. You’re a Madison. Nothing’s going to get in your way. Hell,