Love and Rumors: A Summer Sisters Beach Reads Contemporary Romance (The Summer Sisters Book 1) by Jean Oram

spine. She eased out a long breath. Across the water, Baby Horseshoe Island sat in the dark, despite it being a long weekend and having a camp for teens on the far side. But because of the high property taxes, she knew many couldn’t afford to take the long summer vacations they used to in Muskoka’s heyday and that the nonprofit camp had been struggling for years. It was increasingly rare for a family to spend the whole summer out here. Even those who could telecommute.
    She sighed and turned to gaze up at the green cottage looming in the dark behind her. How long would it take for Nymph Island to sell? Who would it go to? Would they love it and appreciate its rustic charm? Or would they do like the new owners of JoHoBo across the strait, and renovate the cottage to the point that its heritage and history were completely eliminated? Even the name—a combination of the original cottagers’ children, Joanne, Hoskin, and Bobby—had been changed, to Missy’s Getaway.
    Still in her bare feet, Hailey walked up the long, winding dirt path to the cottage. She unlocked the door using a hidden key, and tugged a note off the clip she’d nailed into the old wood door so visitors could leave messages.
    She flicked on a battery-powered light and read the note from a family wondering if the place was available for rent. Hmm. There was an idea. What would a place like this go for per week? She did some quick calculations and realized that even if she rented it out for a crazy amount, it wouldn’t be enough to save the island. But it might help. She looked around the kitchen with a critical eye. It had been added on to the back of the cottage in 1960, the old outdoor kitchen having collapsed after a particularly heavy snow year. The whole place would need a bit of cleaning before being rented out.
    Carrying a lantern, Hailey walked through the cottage’s four bedrooms. The sisters would have to remove their personal effects, which wouldn’t take long. The furniture was ancient, but could almost be considered antique. Add that the bathroom still had its original claw-foot tub, and she could sell the place’s rustic charm without a problem. A quiet getaway where you could unplug in order to reconnect.
    Upstairs was a massive attic that served as a big playroom for Tigger, and held four more queen-size beds. The alcove and small deck, which held a small table and two chairs, wasn’t typical in many of the older cottages, and lent a nice openness to the upstairs. The place might not have a large-screen TV or air conditioning, but it had charm in spades.
    She returned to the motorboat, inspired by her new plan. Once she was out from around the island and within reliable cell phone range again, she used her phone’s screen for light as she dialed the number off the note, hoping she wouldn’t be getting the Walkers out of bed.
    She introduced herself to the man on the other end of the line. “I apologize for calling so late—”
    “No problem,” he said in a delicious British accent. “The neighbors at this resort are so loud we won’t be sleeping for at least another two hours. My wife, three kids, and I really want to get away from town and chill out on an island if at all possible.”
    “How many days?”
    “Three days, two nights. We’d like to stay tomorrow night and the next.”
    “We could swing that.” She’d have to do a hell of a lot of cleaning between now and then as well as confer with her sisters—although did it really matter if they knew? They’d want to come out for their annual Canada Day picnic since they’d been rained out today, but she could tell them the place was being fumigated and that they had to stay away. Then she wouldn’t have to explain or argue or defend the idea. She could just go forward and get this problem solved and move them closer to keeping the cottage. “It’s fairly rustic….”
    “That’s fine.”
    “No air-conditioning. No television. A generator, solar panels and a