Page 61 of The Matchmaker's Cottage

They spoke on the phone?Reeling at this revelation andwondering more about what Ethan wasn’t telling her, Julia tried to get herself back on a level playing field.

“Hi,” she greeted in her best “client services” impression, and held out her hand. “My name is Julia Schaeffer, I’m the owner of Donwell Cottage.”

Emily looked down at her hand, a flash of disdain crossing her face for a brief moment before she shook it and smiled wanly.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, her teeth hardly unclenching. “What’s a Donwell Cottage?”

Ethan groaned out loud while Katy appeared to be stifling a nervous, semi-hysterical giggle. Maggie took the opportunity to step in then.

“Donwell is the name of this lovely bed-and-breakfast,” she chirped. “Speaking of which, you must be starved. Why don’t you come in, and I’ll see what we can scrounge up for you.” Maggie, through some miracle, was able to usher Emily into the house. Even more impressive, she did it without even touching her, a hand hovering at her back rather than on it.

“I can’t eat gluten or dairy…” Emily’s voice faded away as she entered, the woman she had come with rushing behind her as though her life—or perhaps her job?—depended on it.

The remaining people on the patio looked at one another, a feeling of stunned disquiet falling over the group. Had it really just been twenty minutes ago that they were laughing and carefree, enjoying an autumn respite at the beautiful lake? Now Julia felt like her world had been flipped with the arrival of this new, unwelcome face.

Emily’s presence felt like a snake’s in the henhouse. Julia didn’t trust her one bit, and she had no doubt the woman’s intentions were not pure, nor were they meant to be helpful to Julia or her business.

One glance at Ethan’s face told her that her worries were not unfounded. He looked downright grim, lips drawn and face sallow beneath his late-summer tan and overgrown beard. There was something even worse for him about Emily being there. Perhaps it had to do with that phone call she’d alluded to. Or their need to “talk.” The obvious assumption was that he’d slept with her—even after all this time, the idea of Ethan with another woman left Julia with a pit in her stomach, sick and insidious and entirely inappropriate—but even that seemed too simple, too cut-and-dried.

“Well, that was pleasant,” Katy commented.

“She’s something,” Noah agreed, his tone indicating that whatever thatsomethingwas, it wasn’t positive.

“Why the hell would she just show up here? Who would—?” Ethan grunted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“This affects all of us,” Katy said quietly, looking around the group ruefully. “All the subtlety we were aiming for will fly out the window if word gets out that Emily Sattler is here. And if it gets out that you’re here, too, Ethan—”

“There won’t be any question of what’s going on,” Noah finished grimly.

Before anyone could say anything else, a voice echoed through the house all the way back to them outside.

“My luggage, please!”

Thepleasefelt offhand and not polite in the slightest. As perfunctory as the punctuation that followed it. The voice was demanding and used to having its orders followed.

Julia turned to Norman to tell him that she would have to be the one who brought it in since she laid the largest claim to the establishment where it belonged, when he spoke up.

“I’ll take that,” he said, lifting it with ease. “Reminds me of the one the McArthurs had. Boy, were they a hoity-toity bunch…”

Truth be told, Julia was relieved and thankful for his support, especially when he gave her a quick, reassuring wink before entering the house, still telling his story for whoever was around to listen—even if it was just himself.

The rest of them stood in silence for a moment, processing what had just happened. Katy was the first to speak.

“I wouldn’t mind going in, either,” she said. “It’s getting a bit chilly, and I’d like to grab a bite to eat before we figure out what to do next.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Noah said, giving Julia a brief look before guiding Katy with a gentle hand on her back toward the front door and into the house.

Once they were alone on the porch, Ethan and Julia stared at each other for a beat.

Now what?

It felt like so much had transpired in the last twenty-four hours, she didn’t know what to address first. Was it the episode last night? The arrival of Emily? The visit to the lake? The kiss?

Ethan appeared to be mulling over the same questions in his head, chewing on his lip, unsure where to begin.

“Let’s go inside,” she said instead, deciding against addressing any of the things that were roiling through her mind and instead taking the safe approach. “We can get changed and eat something as well. And then we’ll talk later.” She leveled a hard stare at him. “About everything.”

He opened his mouth to say something—to agree or argue, she’d never know—and then quickly snapped it shut. Instead of speaking, he just nodded.