Free The Carpenter & the Queen by Michelle Lashier

ago. But I would love to take a look. How do I
get there?”
    I could take you. This was the
perfect opportunity, and the castle was hard to find unless one
knew where one was going.
    “I’ll draw you a map,” he said, hating his
cowardice. He opened his notebook from the back to guard against
her seeing any of the drawings he had done of her. He turned to a
blank sheet and drew a map while talking her through the
directions. Then he tore out the page and handed it to her.
    “Excellent. Thank you. But what’s a castle
doing in the middle of Michigan?”
    “Some contractor built it back in the ‘60s,
meaning to live in it. But rumor has it he only lived there a
couple years before selling it to the golf course.”
    “I wonder why he sold it,” Claire mused.
“Sounds like it was his dream house.”
    “I don’t know.” Paul worried his bottom lip.
“Maybe he lost his nerve to live there.”
    Claire raised an eyebrow. Paul wanted to
curse for having voiced his thoughts. They were too transparent. He
cleared his throat.
    “Anyway, it’s a banquet hall now. Lots of
weddings up there in the summer on the balcony overlooking the
lake. Not much should be going on this time of year. But I don’t
know what shape the roads will be in.”
    “I’m feeling adventurous. It’s been a while
since I’ve seen a castle.”
    “You’ve done a lot of traveling then?”
    “A fair bit.”
    “Then what made you move here? It’s sort of
the middle of nowhere.”
    She smiled. “I could be very poetic and say
I’ve exiled myself to a country retreat. But a relative of mine
passed away and left me his place.”
    “I’m sorry for your loss. Who was your
relative?”
    “Luther Matthews. Did you know him?”
    “By reputation only. That’s quite a house
you’ve got.”
    “Yeah. It needs a lot of work.” Her eyes
narrowed as she appeared to study him. “I’ll need some carpentry
work done soon. Can you recommend anyone?”
    Here was another perfect opportunity. All he
had to do was ask her number . . . or give her his.
    “I don’t know. Most people go to Mt.
Pleasant for custom work. But if I think of someone, I’ll let you
know.”
    “Oh.” Her face closed. His chance was
lost.
    Paul mentally berated himself the whole way
home. He could have at least given her a name if he hadn’t wanted
to volunteer himself. But no, he had to close up. Always the same
strategy—don’t take risks, don’t say too much. Be safe.
    You’re a loser, Sawyer .
     
    * * * * *
     
    Claire shook her head as she drove to
Blanchard ten miles away to pick Sam up from school. She wasn’t
sure what she had done wrong, but maybe she had been too forward.
Her conversation with Paul had been going well until she asked
about carpenters, and then he shut down. Perhaps she had misread
his interest in her. Was she so desperate for love that she mistook
politeness as flirting?
    Chastising herself even after Sam was in the
car, Claire remembered the directions Paul had given her were still
in her purse. She pulled them out and realized she was already
partway to the castle. Why not look now? She could use the
distraction.
    “This isn’t the way home,” Sam said as she
turned out of the parking lot.
    “I know. We’re checking something out.”
    “What?”
    “A castle. Someone told me today there’s one
up here a ways.”
    “I wanna go home.”
    “Humor me.”
    About twenty minutes later, they reached the
tiny town of Canadian Lakes, and Claire turned on the road that led
to the castle. It was a curvy residential road with A-frame houses
and other cabin-style homes, most of them closed up for the winter.
She wondered how much places like this cost. Then, she took the
turn Paul had said would give them the best view of the castle
before they got up close to it. Claire felt her breath catch a
little when she saw it. There it was—a real castle in Michigan.
    The castle’s style was German with its
multiple towers with crenellated tops. It sat on