Love Overboard - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,53

so we were.”

“Since the inn is indefinitely closed, and we have some time on our hands, I think we should go for a drive in the country and look up Melody.”

Forty-five minutes later they left Route 1 for a secondary road. Stephanie studied the smooth leather upholstery of Ivan’s black SUV, thinking the car suited him—but then so would a Viper. He was a complicated person. Full of surprises and contradictions.

He’d been silent since they’d left Camden, and she knew he was giving her time to reorganize her thoughts about their relationship. About marriage. Marriage. Lord, she could hardly run the word through her mind without feeling hysteria bubble up in her throat. Ivan Rasmussen wanted to marry her. It was beyond her wildest dreams. It was flattering. It was frightening. It was hard to believe. Stephanie Rasmussen. Preposterous. And wonderful.

They passed a small town, nothing more than a gas station, an all-purpose store, and a small white church. A few unimaginative ranch-style houses had been built close to the road, a two-story farmhouse sat farther back, surrounded by bleak fields. The term hardscrabble farm came to mind. She wondered if the owner of the truck lived on one of these no-frills farms.

“You’ve been very quiet,” she said. “You haven’t told me who owns the truck Melody was driving.”

“Ted Grisham, the man who taught me how to make stink bombs.”

Stephanie rubbed her hands together. “The plot thickens. Who’s Ted Grisham?”

“A friend,” he said tersely.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. That’s what I think, too.” Ivan slowed as they approached another little town of neat yards and small, well-tended houses. At the northern edge of town he pulled into the parking lot of a large brick structure that reminded her of the Knox Woolen Mill in Camden. “What is this?”

Ivan sighed and slumped in his seat. “This is”—he took a deep breath—“Rasmussen Leather Products. When I inherited Haben, I also inherited this.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s a shoe factory.”

“You don’t look too happy about it.”

“I hate it. I’ve hated it all my life. I don’t even like to wear shoes.”

Stephanie grinned because the image of Ivan Rasmussen as a shoe baron was ludicrous, and because while he was trying to sound disgusted, it was obvious from the way his voice cracked that he saw the humor in it, too.

“It’s not funny,” he said, smiling. “Well, yeah, I guess it is sort of funny. Can you imagine me running a shoe factory?”

“No.”

“My great-great-grandfather started this leather business when there was an abundance of hides in the area. Over the years it evolved into a shoe factory. Unfortunately, as you saw during the ride here, this shoe factory is the only industry for miles. People in this town have lived and worked here for generations. Without Rasmussen Leather Products the town would die.”

He got out of the car and opened the passenger door for Stephanie. “We’ll walk to Ted’s house. It’s just down the street. Ted is the factory foreman. When I was a kid my dad used to bring me here to see the shoes. I hated the factory, but I loved Ted. He knew how to skip stones across the river behind the factory, and he could spit farther than anyone on the face of the earth…”

“And he knew how to make stink bombs.”

“Yup. He knew how to make stink bombs.”

He picked a stone up and sailed it through the air, into the back end of the parking lot. “When my dad died, I took a look at the books of this sad old factory and discovered it had been running in the red. I loved my dad. He was a good man, and he wasn’t stupid, but he had no talent for running a business. No one had made any improvements in this place in fifty years. It was in such bad shape, I couldn’t get anyone to loan me money to modernize it.”

Stephanie stopped walking and looked at him. “My Lord, you sold Haben to save this factory, didn’t you?”

“All these people would have been out of jobs. I couldn’t do that to them.” He threw his arm around her and started her walking again.

“Anyway, once I made some initial changes, I was able to persuade a bank to finance the rest. And I changed the direction of the product. Went back to making quality, hand-sewn shoes. Just a few styles. Docksiders and classic Wellingtons. It’ll take a while before it’s on its feet, but