Her head picked up now, her dark eyes meeting his for the first time in the entire conversation.
“I have two older brothers,” he said. “They were always star students, not to mention athletes. It can be a lot of pressure to measure up.”
“You’re a lawyer,” Meri said. “Somehow I don’t think you were a slouch in school either.”
“Busted.” Nolan scooped some eggs into his mouth and considered his approach. “But it would have been nice to have more teachers discover my own aptitudes rather than expect I would be just like my brothers.”
Meri chewed eggs while she stabbed a piece of melon with her fork and surveyed the scene on the sidewalk. It was still early. Residents were getting their kids to school and themselves to work. Fall midweek tourists were not great in numbers, but foot traffic in the street might inflate later in the day. If Meri had come from Tennessee, as her alleged alma mater and license plates suggested, she was a long way from home. A long way from the older brother and sister she wasn’t eager to discuss.
“You’re right,” Nolan said. “I am a lawyer. So I’ll make you a deal.”
Her gaze returned to him, wary. “What kind of deal?”
“I’ll go back to the Inn with you so you don’t have to talk to Nia alone about—well, about whatever the topic turns out to be in the process of making sure your employment is secure. If that’s what you want.”
She pushed some more food around on her plate. “I understand in the legal world there’s something called ‘consideration.’ What do you get in exchange?”
Nolan laughed. “Yes. In consideration for what I’m offering, you allow me to be present.”
“But that’s not really anything.”
“Isn’t it? It’s what I want.”
Meri pulled her caramel mocha macchiato closer. “This is not some sneaky way of saying I’m hiring you as an attorney, is it? Am I supposed to give you a dollar for a retainer?”
“Of course not. I hope it’s a rather direct way of saying that if you want a friend in this town you’ve come to alone, I’m offering to fill the position. Pro bono.”
She sipped on her coffee once and then again.
And then she nodded and slowly let out a long breath.
They watched the young family next to them and the street scene outside and ate their food and drank their coffee without saying much more. Nolan finally crumpled up his paper napkin and dropped it in his plate.
“Well, friend, shall we?”
“Nia will probably tell me to either pay for my room or go,” Meri said. “My first full day of work, and I didn’t show up.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not what will happen, but I’ll be there for moral support.” Nolan stood and led the way out of the coffee shop. He pointed across the street and two short blocks down. “When you officially get some time off, you have to visit Digger’s Delight. The best chocolate on the planet.”
“Because the owner tempers it all herself every morning,” Meri said.
“How did you know that?”
She waved a hand. “These candy shops in small towns are always that way. Why else would the tourists come?”
“Well, be sure to introduce yourself to Carolyn, the owner. She’s happy to talk to anyone interested in the process of turning candy by hand.”
Walking from the Canary Cage to the Inn could be measured in single-digit minutes. When Meri’s pace dragged, Nolan slowed without comment. When she sighed, he did not remark on the tremble of air flowing from her lungs.
“Nia?” Nolan called into the empty rooms of the Inn.
“Back here.”
Nia was in the Inn’s laundry room, behind the kitchen, folding sheets. She added the one she’d just finished to her stack. The woman could fold fitted sheets with perfect corners. His wife had taught her to do that when she was a teenager, after a babysitting session. Even Jillian had never learned. Certainly Nolan hadn’t.
“I’ll make tea,” Nia said. “We can sit in the kitchen.”
“We just had a filling breakfast at the Cage,” Nolan said.
“Then we’ll just sit in the kitchen and talk.”
Meri sat on the edge of her chair, hands tucked under her thighs. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m a very responsible person. Really. I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m here as a character witness,” Nolan said. “She means it.”
“Nolan,” Nia said, “we’ll work it out.”
“I hope so,” Meri said. “I’m genuinely sorry for last night. And this morning. I didn’t know how to fix it, so I couldn’t face you.”
“I was disappointed to find you gone this morning,” Nia said. “I will tell you the truth about that. But a rough beginning doesn’t mean the end has come already.”
“See?” Nolan tapped Meri’s shoulder. “What did I tell you?”
“I do want to set a few ground rules,” Nia said.
“Of course,” Meri said.
“You will have regular time off, and I won’t ask questions about where you go when you’re off. That’s up to you. But I have to know I can depend on you when you are on duty.”
“You can. I promise. No more disappearing.”
“If a special need arises, just say something. This is not the army. We can adapt. But this is a business, so we have to work together to cover all our bases. It won’t be long before the ski season starts, and we’ll be busy all the time.”
“I understand. You can count on me.”
“So you still want the job?”
“Absolutely. If you still want me.”
“I will need your paperwork to officially put you on the payroll.”
“I’ll do it today.”
Nolan pushed his chair back. “I’ll leave you two to sort things out from here.”
Nia was already making a written list of tasks that would form Meri’s job description.
At home Nolan stuck his head into Jillian’s office again. “You had another cup of coffee, didn’t you?”
“I promise, decaf the rest of the day.” She tapped a file. “But I closed this project. So what’s up with Meri?”
“She has an older brother and sister she doesn’t want to talk about.”
“That kind of thing is your department.”
He nodded. “I’m not giving up. I’m sure either one of us could find out with a phone call whether she really went to Sewanee, and if the answer is yes and her name is real, you could find out who her siblings are without too much trouble. Maybe Sewanee is a family tradition.”
“All true,” Jillian said. “But I’m used to poking around in people’s private business because a client has a justifiable reason to know the information. Doesn’t this feel more like an invasion of privacy—privacy she’s clearly going out of her way to protect?”
“Valid argument, counselor,” Nolan said. “On the other hand, she needs help. So we have to get her on board with letting us help her.”
“Which takes us back to your department.”
“We’re a package deal, Silly Jilly. Deal with it.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ten after three. Jillian rubbed her eyes and ran her hands through her barely brushed hair.
Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she had brushed her hair that morning. She showered. She was certain of that. But after toweling out the drippiest weight of moisture from her hair, had she actually picked up the brush on her bathroom sink?
A yawn ensued, and she regretted her promise to switch to decaf. Her to-do list for the day was unforgiving. Mrs. Answald was paying her a ridiculous amount of money to leaf out a family tree in time for a family reunion bringing together a hundred descendants from one married pair six generations back. Jillian had intended to say no, on the simple grounds that the request had come too late for the deadline and the amount of work already on her desk. Somehow she said yes, and she couldn’t back out now. Instead, she would just have to pretend she was ten years younger a
nd could get by on coffee instead of sleep.
Except for that promise about decaf.
For now, she wandered into the kitchen, pausing at the coffee station long enough only to pick up the mug she’d used that morning and move it to the sink. It was a squat-shaped thing she’d taken from the cabinet, doubtful it would become her new favorite. The handle wasn’t right. But at least she’d given it a fair chance. For now, a cold beverage, even a simple glass of water poured over ice, could help—especially if she threw it straight at her own face.
“You need a break.”
Jillian jumped. She hadn’t seen her father at the kitchen table.
“You’ve hardly moved in the last six hours,” he said. “I have just the thing.”
“I’m allowed coffee after all?”
He shook his head. “Better. Chocolate-covered cherries from Digger’s Delight.”
“We have some of those?”
“We will, as soon as you walk down and buy them.”
“Dad. That’s not funny.”
“Call Nia and tell her you promised me some cherries for dessert.”
“But I haven’t.”
“Are you saying you don’t want me to have my favorite cherries tonight?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Then you do want me to have them. That’s as good as a promise, which you are now obligated to fulfill.”
“Dad.” He was impossible. “I have a pile of work.”
“And you haven’t seen daylight. It’s not healthy.”
“And chocolate-covered cherries are?”
“All things in moderation. I believe you’ll find a walk and some fresh air will perk you up and give you a second wind for that mound of work. No caffeine required.”
Jillian crossed her arms. “Okay, but if I’m providing dessert, then you’re cooking dinner again.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Deal.”
“But why Nia?”
“Oh that. It’s the best way to take Meri along.”
“This is about Meri?”
“Just take her, all right? Buy the girl some chocolate.”
“What if she won’t go?”
“That’s why you need Nia.”
“This is sounding rather circular, Dad.”
“Nia invites Meri, and it smooths things over after what happened. Don’t let Nia leave Meri behind. They both go with you, and you bring me back some intel.”
“Intel? What am I, the CIA? Why don’t you just take Meri to the candy store yourself?”
“I bought her breakfast. I can’t be her only friend in Canyon Mines. That would be creepy.”
“Fine.”
“Jilly.”
“Yes, Dad?”
“You have your mother’s hair.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll brush it.” Jillian filled a glass with tap water, downed it, and called Nia.
Meri tried to beg off the excursion. Nolan had been right about that. The depth of her penance did not allow relief from her duties even for thirty minutes once she had finally taken them up for the day.
“It’s an order,” Nia finally said. “Leo’s in the office hanging a couple of shelves for me. He can handle whatever comes through the door in the next half hour.”
So they set off down the street.
“Meri has been doing a marvelous job.” Nia tapped Meri’s shoulder three times. “You would hardly know she started just yesterday.”
“That’s great.” Jillian smiled at Meri, who only shrugged.
“She knows all the guest rooms by their names already, and she’s a pro with the electronic washer and dryer. Carlotta was terrified by those machines when I bought them last spring, and I’m not entirely sure I blame her, but not Meri. Bing, bing, bing, all the right buttons the first time around.”
“It’s not that hard,” Meri said. “The instructions are right inside the lid.”
“Don’t discount yourself,” Nia said. “You did a lot today to make things easier for me. You absolutely deserve this little break.”
Jillian gently elbowed her friend. Don’t overcompensate. Meri was an intelligent young woman. She would see through Nia’s effort to dredge up every possible compliment after a rough start to the day. Time to change the topic.
“Carolyn’s family has been in Canyon Mines since the mining days in the late nineteenth century,” Jillian said. “A lot of families around here have long ties to the area. She’s been making candy for decades. If you’re a history buff at all, you’ll find the building interesting.”
“It was the old town livery, right?” Meri said. “I do find that very interesting, actually.”
Nia glanced at Jillian. “How did you know that, Meri?”
Meri shrugged. “It just popped into my head. I must have read it somewhere. Probably a brochure. I picked up a few when I first came into town yesterday.”
Nia shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’ve heard Carolyn mention that fact occasionally, but it’s not in the standard tourist materials.”
“It could be,” Jillian said.
“It’s not,” Nia insisted. “Running a bed-and-breakfast, I have a vested interest in what the tourist materials look like, not to mention a rack of brochures I’m constantly straightening in the dining room where the guests make a mess of them every morning. None of the brochures say that.”
Meri’s eyes bulged as her lips pressed closed.
“It’s not a secret. A lot of people know,” Jillian said. “Does it matter where she heard it?”
“I guess not,” Nia said.
Back off, Nia. Don’t make her bolt again before we get a chance to help.
“Meri, are you a milk chocolate fan or a dark chocolate fan?” Jillian changed the subject once again. “Or white? Carolyn makes that too, though some people don’t consider that real chocolate.”
“I guess I’d have to say milk chocolate, when I have the choice,” Meri said. “My brother thinks the whole world should be in love with dark chocolate. No matter how many times I say I don’t care for it, he sticks it in front of my face anyway.”
“Well, nobody is doing that today,” Jillian said. “My dad and I are pretty evenly split on these things, so I usually buy a mixture. As long as I go home with something that has cherries in the middle, he’s happy.”
“Here we are.” Nia pulled open the door and let Meri step through.
Jillian hung back long enough to glance at the plaque on the building summarizing its history. It said nothing about the structure ever having been a livery.
So where did Meri pick up that true but obscure-to-newcomers fact?
Inside, Nia introduced Meri to Carolyn, who asked the innocent question she asked of dozens of people who came into her shop from out of town every day.
“Where are you from?”
Meri examined the crème-filled selections. “Back East. Is it true your family has been here for generations?”
“Since the 1870s. How do you like Canyon Mines?”
Meri smiled at Carolyn. “Have you ever thought of living somewhere else?”
“Never. This is my home. Have you been here before?”
Meri drew a finger along a seam in the glass case. “Did you learn to make chocolate from someone in your family?”
“My mother. What kind of chocolate do you like?”
“Milk chocolate.”
“With fillings, or just straight chocolate?”
Meri tilted her head, pushing her jaw forward. “Some of both, I guess.”
Jillian listened and observed—intel, after all. Meri often waited a beat before she answered questions, no matter who asked them, or adroitly turned the topic back to the inquirer. Was she making up answers, or was she trying to keep her story straight?
On the top of the glass case were several small plates with bits of chocolate samples. Carolyn urged Meri to try a few while Nia selected an assortment of pieces to use in the parlor for evening guests before foisting a variety
on Meri to keep in her room and enjoy as she wished.
Jillian bought some cherries for her father, a couple of marshmallow bars, and two peanut butter cups—one milk chocolate and one dark chocolate. She knew better than to buy too much at one time, because just like Ben’s pastries, she would eat uncontrolled quantities of Carolyn’s candies at her desk.
They began the stroll back toward the Inn.
“Your brother is wrong,” Nia said.
“Excuse me?” Meri said.
“About the chocolate. Milk chocolate is a fine choice, and if it’s what you want to choose, then you should be free to choose it.”
Meri’s eyes moistened instantly, and she deflected her glance.
“Brothers can be such a pain,” Nia said. “I have one of my own. But I also wouldn’t trade him for the world. What did your family enjoy doing together when you were growing up?”
Meri looked around and said, “This. But I was much younger then. Only eleven.”
As puzzlement passed through Nia’s face, Jillian gently touched her friend’s arm. Don’t say anything.
Meri cleared her throat. “My parents had very busy jobs. We had a few vacations where we really got away and explored some small towns where nobody knew them. I liked that.”
“Makes sense,” Jillian said before Nia could jump in. “I remember what it was like before my dad started working from home some of the time. I liked it when I had both my parents to myself at the same time.”
Back at the Inn, Meri lunged through the door. “I’ll move that load of towels in the washer.”
“Thank you,” Nia said. But she was talking to Meri’s back. She turned to Jillian. “What just happened?”
“I’m not sure, but I think she almost let her guard down.”
“So her family has something to do with why she’s here.”
“Clearly.”
“That mean brother of hers.”
“We don’t know that he’s always mean. He may just be thickheaded about chocolate.”
“Whatever.” Nia moved through the parlor and toward the small office behind it. “Come here.”
The Inn at Hidden Run Page 4
