Welcome to Love at the Oakwood Inn: Oakwood Inn Series, #1

By Beverly Kovatch

Wendy Connor did not have much luck in life. Her enounters with men left a bad tasted in her mouth. Her father left when she was a small child, and she barely knew him in fact all she could remember was the smell of his aftershave. Her ex-husband Frank was even worse. He drank and gambled away the little bit of money that they had and then moved on to to his next conquest. Yes, men were not the top thing on her list. Her mother died suddenly in an accident and she was now all alone. She knew that her mother had an older sister and a twin brother but there was a family blowout and she never spoke of them. Then Wendy recieved a telegram from some attorneys in Vermont. All the telegram said was that her Aunt Margaret had passed away and she needed to come to Vermont for a reading of her last will and testament, so what did she have to lose?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beverly Kovatch
• Release date: Nov 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201955823

Beverly Kovatch

This Author is about as unknown as one can become. She sometimes lives in the past, sometimes in the future, sometimes right in the middle of the present. Her mind wanders from what was to what is to what could be. That is the power of the written and spoken word. There are so many opportunities for so many people, and she wonders why no one seems to seek them out. She lives on a farm in what was once a vast farmland area. A few people still believe in farming, but each year, there seem to be fewer and fewer of them. This past year, it appears that the moral background of the world is rapidly disappearing. It takes hard work to be a farmer nowadays. It is a lot easier to sit back and watch others do it. People have taken this place we call home for granted. The pandemic threw us all for a loop, but it also made some realize that unless we fight for what we believe in, our country, the one we all grew up in, could be lost. It took hard work and determination for us to be where we are, and all of it started with a small dream. You see, everything in life begins with a dream. This Author once dreamt she could one day write a book that others might enjoy reading, and here she is. She has written not one book but more than twenty books. Some people dream of owning just a small piece of land, owning their own little business, raising their families in a free land, a place where we are allowed to say what we feel in our hearts, fight for what we believe in, worship at the church of our choice. These past few years have taught this Author that there is power in our words. Once our words are silenced, we have given up one of our most treasured rights. It is my hope, my dream, that the power that you, my readers, have within you will never be silenced. The dreams you hold inside will always be fulfilled, and that you will always and forever … Keep on Dreaming!

Book preview

Chapter One

Wendy saw this as the perfect opportunity to start her life over. Her husband of two years was long gone now.  He had supposedly met the love of his life and was experiencing a fresh and new beginning. Her marriage to Frank had been a disaster from the start. She should have realized that it wouldn’t work when she found out that he had been cheating on his other girlfriend to be with her, but she ignored that fact. She was so in love. He had romanced her, and her brain had taken a vacation from reality. Sadly, when reality set in, she was already married to him. Life with him was a gamble, and by gamble, she meant it. He gambled away practically everything they owned. She had been living in her car and had all her mail sent to a post office box when the telegram arrived. She thought, of course, it was one of Frank’s jokes.  A prank her ex-husband was playing on her. He was great at lying, and he could always make her believe things that were not true. She had always been a sucker, believing everything he said. He was good at it, and this kind of thing would be right up his alley.

However, receiving this telegram telling of her Aunt’s death seemed like something beyond Frank’s typical prank. It was one thing to lie about where he was or what he was doing and quite another to do something as outrageous as this. She called him on the phone to scream at him for his bad taste, but he knew nothing about any telegram. He told her he was sorry about her Aunt, but the telegram had not come from him. He promptly told her he had given up that lifestyle and had moved on with his life, and she should do the same. Sure, all she would believe was that he had moved on to his next conquest. He had a place to live while leaving her with nothing but bills.

She lost her home and her job all because of him and his gambling habit while he was safely tucked in and warm with his new squeeze.

She remembered her Aunt Margaret as being quite eccentric. She had traveled a considerable distance with her mother to a remote area of Vermont to visit her once. She was very young when that happened, and the last time she even saw Aunt Margaret was at her mother’s funeral about five years ago. She was surprised when her Aunt walked through the door of the funeral home.  Aunt Margaret had to have been in her seventies and was the oldest of the three children.  Wendy knew that somewhere she had an Uncle William, but he and her mother had some kind of disagreement, and no one seemed to know where he went after that.  William and her mother were twins, and there was a considerable distance in age between them and Aunt Margaret.  After the big blowout her mother had with William and Margaret, she never talked about her siblings. Wendy barely remembered meeting them, except for that one time at Aunt Margaret’s.

It stuck out in her memory because she remembered traveling so far only to hear the three of them arguing.  The following morning she and her mother got back into the car and left. She didn’t remember much they were there for only a night. She remembered a long winding driveway leading to a massive house with a big old porch that you could sit on and see the entire lake.  It was like something out of a dream.  To think that Aunt Margaret lived in that vast house all by herself was unimaginable. She vaguely remembered that Aung Margaret did have some servants, one in particular. What was his name, she thought?

He had to be dead by now. He might have been a bit younger than Aunt Margaret’s age but not by much. Then again, age to a young girl was irrelevant.  She struggled as she tried to remember his name. Rudy, no Randolph, that was it, Randolph.

Wendy had been driving for hours, and she was tired. She wasn’t even sure if her clunker of a car would make it to Vermont from Virginia. It needed new tires, new wipers, and the muffler was starting to go. It was making that rumble that made you cringe when you stepped on the gas. She pulled off at the rest stop to catch a few winks, and the little bit of money she had from hocking her one last treasure, her guitar, was dwindling fast.

Secretly she hoped that her wealthy Aunt was leaving her a small inheritance so she would have something to get herself back on her feet. She was not getting her hopes up, though, since she barely knew Aunt Margaret. She walked over to the vending machine and purchased a cup of coffee and a bag of chips. It was not a great meal, but it was something. If she was frugal enough, she hoped that there was enough money to get her to Vermont, eat one cheap meal a day, and hopefully survive until she found a new job. She wasn’t looking forward to staying in a shelter, but that was the next thing on her agenda if her luck didn’t change.

It’s a little chilly tonight, don’t you think? It seems as though summer goes faster and faster. A stranger said to her while deciding if she wanted anything else before going back to her car.

I guess, she replied, trying to be friendly, but she was a bit apprehensive speaking to a stranger at a rest stop.

It can get mighty cold up here in Vermont, especially when fall and winter hits. A summer chill down like this can mean a fierce winter is coming.

I suppose so; I am not really from around here, Wendy replied. I have only been here once, and it was early fall if I remember correctly.

Well, then you will love the fall colors when it hits, tragically they change fast, but it is a beautiful sight. Where are you headed?

My Aunt’s place in Waterstone, she died and, I guess she left me something, although I am not sure what. I didn’t know her very well. All I know is that she owned a big old home on a lake.

What was your Aunt’s name, If I might ask? She hesitated to say the name but finally blurted it out. Carrington, Margaret Carrington was her name.

He looked at her as if she were kidding. You’re related to the Carrington’s? he seemed to ask as if being related to them was somehow a bad thing.

Why do you ask? Wendy said hesitantly, knowing her Aunt was not exactly the friendly type.

The Carrington’s are very well known in Waterstone, he replied.

Really? she said, thinking that was not how she pictured her Aunt as being someone well known. She was more of a loner or a hermit, mostly keeping to herself.

She recalled her mother calling Aunt Margaret a hermit, who refused to care about anyone but herself.  Figuring it was safe and she would probably not see this stranger again, she introduced herself.

I am Wendy Connor. My mother was Emily Carrington.

Well, Miss Connor, it is an honor to meet one of the elusive Carrington family. Your family name is well known up here. My father owns a piece of property on the lake not far from your Aunt.

Ah, so you’re a neighbor then?

I am not sure your family would call me a neighbor, but yes, we do own a bit of property on the lake too. I am Luke, Luke Cassidy, He said, offering his hand, wondering why she did not seem to recognize his family’s name. He found it strange because he was sure that all of the Carrington family knew of the Cassidy’s. She didn’t react to his name, so he decided to see if he could find out just why she was heading to Waterstone.

It is nice to meet you, Luke, she said, shaking his hand.

Yes, it is nice to meet you also. Are you going to visit family? he asked.

Well, my Aunt Margaret passed away, and I was summoned to Waterstone for the reading of her will.

I am sorry to hear about your Aunt. I hope things go well for you.  He waved as he headed back to his car, yelling out.

Who knows, maybe I will see you around.

She waved back. Luke seemed nice, but then so did Frank when she first met him. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him about Aunt Margaret. She wasn’t sure anyone knew of her death yet.

She turned and headed back to her car. She pulled out the blanket from the back seat and covered herself up, and sipped on the hot coffee.

Chapter Two

The little town of Waterstone wasn’t at all what she was expecting. The town was small and inviting. A gazebo and a log cabin were sitting right next to each other in the center of town. The street was not made of concrete or blacktop but old red bricks. Smoke was coming out of the chimney of the log cabin, and she thought that it was weird, someone living in the center of town like that. Then she noticed the old wooden sign at the end that said Fresh hot syrup.

They harvested maple sap and made homemade Maple syrup right here in the center of town. How quaint, she thought. She pulled up and parked in front of the tiny storefront that had Parker and Finch Attorneys at law posted on their window. She walked in the door, and a small bell chimed to let them know someone had entered. An older grey-haired man came out from the back.

Can I help you miss? he said.

I am Wendy Connor, she replied.

Oh my goodness, you are Margaret’s niece. How wonderful that you were able to come. We weren’t sure that you would.

Why would you think that? she asked.

Well, her family wasn’t exactly close, he replied, calling for his partner to come out and meet Margaret’s niece.

My, my, it is so good to meet Miss Carrington’s family at last.

Well, I got your letter, and so I came. I am afraid that I only met my Aunt a couple of times in my life. You see, she and my mother were not very close. So,  I will tell you I was surprised even to get a letter of her death, let alone that she left me something in her will.

So, sad, the one attorney said. You are correct. The family was not close, not close at all. Margaret was very much alone, and we were not even able to find your Uncle William.

Did she leave him something too?

"She did, but without being able to find him, and your mother deceased, it