“Wow,” he said, looking me up and down like I was doing to him. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” I grabbed my coat from the closet.
“Allow me.” He held it so I could ease my arms into the sleeves, then he leaned forward far enough that I could feel his breath on my cheek. “And you smell amazing.”
“Yowza,” Onyx, who I hadn’t realized was there, exclaimed with a whistle. “You look beautiful, sis.”
I giggled. Was it my imagination, or did I hear Ranger growl?
“Roads are pretty slick out there. Be careful,” said my grandfather.
“I sure will. I know exactly how precious my cargo is.” Ranger winked. “Ready?”
I kissed the cheeks of both my grandparents, said I loved them, and waved goodbye to Onyx.
“Have fun, kids,” he said as we walked out.
“He’s such an old soul.”
Ranger laughed. “Or a giant five-year-old.”
“You two are close.”
He nodded. “I would follow him into any battle, anywhere, anytime.”
“Powerful words.”
“True ones too.”
I sensed Ranger was leaving much unsaid, but with the whole night ahead of us, there’d be plenty of time for me to delve deeper.
“Tell me what you’re going to save besides the carousel company,” Ranger said before we left the driveway.
I laughed. “Wait, I get to ask my questions first.”
“Snooze, ya lose, Maisie Ann. Now you’ll have to wait your turn.”
“Who’s the five-year-old? Onyx or you?”
Ranger reached over and squeezed my hand. “I wanna know every single thing there is to know about you, beautiful. Can’t fault me for that, can you?”
“I love this place,” I said with a smile when he pulled into Dick and Peg’s Northwoods Inn several minutes later. Peg, now in her eighties, still did all the cooking and insisted on continuing the tradition of everything being made from scratch.
“Well, if it isn’t little Maisie Ann,” said Dick, Peg’s son, who had been the Northwoods’ bartender since he was old enough to see over the counter.
When he came around the bar, I gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Who’s this you’ve got with you?” he asked.
Ranger stepped forward to shake Dick’s hand. “You saw me earlier today, sir. I’m Ranger Messick.”
“That’s right,” Dick nudged him. “You wanted me to save you the fireside table.” He waved to the two-top waiting for us. “Come have a drink at the bar first.”
That was how it went at the Northwoods Inn. So Peg didn’t get too overwhelmed in the kitchen, reservations were mandatory. Every customer was invited to sit at the bar when they arrived. There, they’d look over the menu and place their order. When the first course was ready, Dick would escort them to their table.
I raised a brow when Dick opened a bottle of wine, poured two glasses, and set one in front of each of us. I was more surprised when I asked about the specials and he told me Peg already had our order and our appetizers would be served in a few minutes.
Ranger raised his glass. “To Maisie Ann, savior of the carousel company among other things to be divulged over tonight’s dinner.”
“To Maisie Ann,” said Dick, raising his glass of water.
I touched my glass to theirs and took a sip of one of my favorite wines—that until tonight, I hadn’t known Dick carried.
“In case my toast didn’t give it away, I’m going to keep pestering you until you tell me.”
I took another sip and set my glass on the bar. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out. It’s pretty obvious.”
“Humor me.”
“Canada Lake, of course.”
Ranger smiled and nodded. “Restore the town to its former glory?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I can’t wait to hear all the details.”
I cocked my head. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or joking.”
Ranger turned his barstool so he was facing me, leaned forward, and put his arm on the back of my seat. “Completely serious. Tell me how.”
I explained that in order to test the theory that I wasn’t the only one who longed for things to go back to the way they were when I was growing up, I’d opened the dance hall at Sherman’s Amusement Park on New Year’s Eve. Tickets sold out in fifteen minutes.
“I know they did. I could only get one.”
“You should’ve called me. I held onto a couple for close friends.”
“Would I have rated high enough to score an extra? As a close friend, that is?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would have. Jimmy too.”
Ranger put his hand on his heart. “I rank the same as my older brother? Ouch.”
“He kept in better touch than you did.”
“You got me there. However, I plan to remedy that, here and now.” He shimmied his barstool closer to mine.
I looked down to where our legs touched. “That’s a good start.”
“I like the way you think, Miss Jones.” He rested his hand on my knee, and a jolt of desire coursed through my body.
“Yeah?” I leaned forward. Another inch or so, and we’d be close enough to kiss.
“Your table is ready,” said Dick, coming up behind us. He reached around and grabbed my wineglass. “Follow me.”
I nearly gasped when I saw two steaming bowls of French onion soup waiting for us. “How did you know this was my favorite?”
“I’ll never tell,” said Ranger, winking. “And neither will Dick.”
“Nope, not me. Never seen this guy before in my life.”
I shook my head and laughed. Dick and Peg were part of the nostalgia of being at the lake that I longed to bring back. It was one of the few restaurants left in the area. The rest had either closed for the season or for good. For my plan to revitalize the lakeside community to work, having a wide range of places to eat was essential.
“Let’s circle back to how you’re going to save Canada Lake,” Ranger said while we waited for our soup to cool off enough to taste.
“I’d start with the amusement park and the bathhouse, which includes the second-floor dance hall. Once they are fully operational, I’d find investors to renovate the Canada Lake Hotel and make it a destination resort on its own.”
“I forgot all about that place. It’s just down the shore from Sherman’s, right?”
I nodded. “Part of the rehab would be to bring back the boardwalk that connected the two. There used to be shops all along the waterfront—kind of like a miniature Coney Island. There isn’t anything like it in the park now, at least not on a shoreline.”
“Is that it, or do you have more?”
“Loads more.” I broke through the melted cheese on top of the soup and spooned some of the broth, waiting until it stopped steaming before putting it in my mouth. When I did, I groaned. “Food like this, for example. It’s one thing this area needs far more of. Instead of going out to dinner like my parents and grandparents did, my generation meets up at other camps. That’s fine and fun, but what about when someone doesn’t feel like cooking and cleaning up? Especially when they’re on vacation.”