Last Pen Standing

by Vivian Conroy

  Delta was completely engrossed in choosing the four notebooks she planned to purchase. Four initially seemed like a lot for someone who already had more notebooks than she knew what to do with, but in no time, she had selected six and was eyeing two more: one with dancing flamingos and one with letters that formed hidden words. Why not take them all?

  Vaguely, she heard a footfall behind her, probably Hazel entering the store.

  Suddenly, she felt a slight tug at her hair, and someone said, “Two for one. Yes, please.”

  Turning around, Delta found herself face-to-face with a grinning man with wild blond curls and brown eyes, a dimple in his cheek. He wore a crisp, white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, and dark-blue jeans with a silver belt buckle of a running horse. He held up the bright-yellow arrow. “This was stuck to your back, half in your hair.”

  Delta flushed. “It must have gotten hung up there when Hazel said hello to me. She’s looking for that arrow. I’ll take it out to her.” She reached out her hand, and the man put the arrow in it. His infuriating grin stayed in place. “I haven’t seen you here before. New to town?”

  “I’m coming to live here. To run Wanted, with Hazel.”

  “Really? She didn’t mention that to me.” The man looked puzzled. Delta couldn’t figure out why this man would think Hazel should have told him that Delta was moving to Tundish. Could it be her friend was dating him? Hazel hadn’t mentioned anything about it, but then again, over the past few weeks, their conversations had been focused on practical details for Delta’s move and the financial arrangements for co-ownership of Wanted, so maybe Hazel had figured she could tell her once she was in town.

  Hazel’s most recent relationship had ended in heartbreak when she found out the guy had been cheating on her. Delta had assumed her friend wouldn’t have been eager to dive into something new, especially not one with a man whose athletic physique and cute dimple probably got a lot of female attention.

  “Oh, there it is.” Hazel buzzed up to Delta and reached out for the arrow with a smile. “I had no idea where it had disappeared to.” Ignoring the man completely, she hurried outside again to put it in place.

  To make up for her friend’s rather brusque behavior, Delta asked quickly, “Is there anything you need from the shop?”

  The man picked up a notebook with peacocks, their large purple-and-turquoise feathers adorned with little sparkly gold foil elements in them. It was the first on top of the stack, and he didn’t look inside or check the price, just handed it to Delta as if he couldn’t wait to get this chore over with. “Can I have this?”

  “Of course, but”—Delta knew men often didn’t like shopping, but still, he was entitled to a second notebook, under the deal advertised outside—“it’s two for the price of one, so you can pick another for free. I can find you one that matches what you already have. Blue and gold…” She wanted to dig into the stacks, to extract those spines that looked like they might offer a color match, but he waved her off. “I only need one. Can you gift wrap it for me?”

  “Certainly.” Telling herself that the customer was always right, no matter how illogical their decisions might be, Delta took the notebook from his hand and walked to the cash register, feeling a little giddy at making her first sale. This was awesome, even better than she had imagined. She detected several rolls of wrapping paper stacked under the counter. “Blue and gold would be a perfect match.” Delta tore off a piece the right size for the notebook. “Now, where’s the tape dispenser?” She glanced across the length of the counter, then knelt down to look for it below.

  Tilting forward to peer behind a stack of paper bags imprinted with the Wanted logo, she pushed herself up a little. The top of her head made contact with the counter’s edge, and she winced.

  “Are you OK?” the customer asked, leaning his hands on the counter.

  “Yes.” Delta rubbed the sore spot. “But a tape dispenser is nowhere in sight. Maybe I can dig out scissors somewhere. And a loose role of tape. Ah, here. No, this roll is empty. Let’s see what’s in here.”

  She pulled a plastic basket toward her that was brimming with elastic bands, pens, pencils, and scraps of paper with illegible notes written on them. This space needed to get more organized. She dug through the items in a rush. “Sorry about the delay.”

  “No problem.” The customer rocked back on his heels, a surreptitious glance at his watch belying his casual reply.

  Hazel came back in, and he immediately turned to her and lowered his voice in a tone of confidentiality. “I’m not eager to get back to the Lodge. Rosalyn is having a fit over the gold miners’ party. The photographer she managed to get after lots of calls to friends in the right places decided to drop her like a brick for a chance to shoot some pop group in Vegas. I told her I could take a decent shot, but she just glared at me like I was suggesting she hire the seven dwarves. But she’ll come around. She can’t get anybody professional on such short notice.”

  “Why doesn’t she ask Jonas?” Hazel said. “He’s a professional, even if he usually has deer in front of his lens and not people.”

  “Now, there’s an idea.” The man smiled at Hazel, who kept her aloof expression in place and started to reorganize the gift bags, which were already perfectly aligned.

  Delta finally found tape and wrapped the peacock notebook, putting a gold ribbon around the parcel. “There you go.”

  He put a ten-dollar bill on the counter. “Never mind the change. See you Friday, then.” Picking up the parcel, he walked out with an easy, athletic stride.

  “Never mind the change?” Delta hitched an eyebrow at Hazel. “I thought people only tipped waiters.”

  “Oh, that’s Ray Taylor. The Taylor family used to own half of the town. People worked at their Lodge Hotel or delivered goods to it or organized trips for guests staying at it. They’re a household name in the region. You just work with them, not against them.”

  “The Lodge Hotel is where we’re doing the workshop Friday night, right?” Delta wasn’t sure if she was pleased or annoyed at the idea that she might run into Mr. Taylor again.

  Hazel nodded. “Ray never wanted any part of the hotel business and left town to play football. He did very well for a couple of seasons, had a string of high-class girlfriends and was even set to be drafted into the NFL. But he was injured last spring, and there are rumors his career is over. Ray is the last person to say a word about it, but the fact that he’s back in town and suddenly snuggling up to his father suggests he’s looking for a way back into the family fold. Needless to say, the other Taylors are not pleased.”

  Delta frowned. “Let me guess. He has an older brother who worked his butt off for the hotel and now sees charming Ray sailing back into town and into his father’s good graces.”

  “Her father’s good graces. The eldest Taylor is a daughter. Rosalyn runs the hotel like a pro. Made a lot of changes, pulled in new guests. Saved it from mediocrity, really. I mean, there are so many places to stay now. They can’t depend on their former monopoly in the region anymore. Mr. Taylor Sr. doesn’t seem to see that clearly, but Rosalyn does. She’s invested everything in the hotel’s survival. It’s still a family business; her younger sister, Isabel, is working at the hotel as hostess, welcoming the guests and arranging for all the entertainment. She got Finn a job there.”

  Delta stared at Hazel. “Your brother Finn?” She had had no idea that Hazel’s brother had moved to Montana. Hazel hadn’t mentioned him in ages, suggesting they were barely in touch. Last thing Delta knew about him was that he had graduated college with flying colors and started a job with a top-notch insurance agency in Los Angeles. And now all of a sudden he was living in Tundish?

  Hazel grimaced, as if the subject were painful to her. “Yes, he came here last summer for the boating and mountaineering. Then he met Isabel, and they fell in love. She got him a job as wildlife guide at the hotel.”

 
“Wildlife guide?” Delta echoed. “I thought Finn was in finance. Insurance and that sort of thing. Or am I confusing him with someone else you told me about?”

  “No, he was in insurance, but it just made him unhappy.” Hazel made a wide hand gesture. “He was always sporty and loved water, the great outdoors, a sense of freedom. He hated city life with all the concrete and the never-ending hum of the traffic. He’s much more at ease here, bunking with another guide who has a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The deer are at his window in the mornings, he says. It would all be perfect, if Isabel would just stop pestering him about getting engaged at Christmas this year.”

  Delta tried to gauge her friend’s feelings on the subject. Did Hazel not like Isabel as a person, or was she uneasy about the idea that her brother would become a part of an influential family whose lifestyle might be miles away from her own? Did she think that Finn, who hadn’t liked high-pressure city life, wouldn’t cope well with the demands his new family might make on him?

  She tried to sound casual as she probed, “And you’re not a fan of the match?”

  Hazel sighed. “I’m not sure if they’re really a fit. They’re like day and night, you know, Isabel always in high heels, Finn in a fleece jacket and shoes full of mud. He still has this college student attitude, showing up for work when he wants to and calling off when he has suddenly thought up something else to do.”

  Delta wondered for a moment if Finn had also had this attitude during his work in LA. His bosses wouldn’t have liked it. Had Finn really given up on his insurance job because he didn’t like the city, or had he been fired?

  Hazel continued, “On the other hand, Finn did think up some clever ideas to entertain the hotel guests, and Isabel incorporated them into their activity calendar. She claims they’re a golden duo. That is, they used to be until Ray showed up, disturbing the balance.”

  Yes, Ray Taylor was someone who could disturb things, Delta readily accepted. He had a self-confidence that was hard to overlook. Maybe his siblings were afraid that, even after many years away, Ray had the power to convince his father he was the best person to run the Lodge Hotel.

  “Why were you so rude when he came into the store?” Delta asked.

  Hazel shrugged. “There have been rumors I’m after Ray because I’m doing my workshops at the hotel. People whisper that I just want to see him. But I don’t have the space needed for the workshops here at Wanted. I guess it’s because Finn is with Isabel now, and people are sure I want a part of the Taylor pie as well.”

  Hazel shook her head impatiently. “I know trouble when I see it. Ray isn’t the type to stick around. He’ll just stir things up all over town and then run off again, leaving others with the mess. When he does leave, I don’t want to be caught in the middle. Same goes for Finn.”

  Delta studied her friend more closely. Hazel sounded a little too protective, given the fact that her brother was a grown-up who had to make his own choices and even his own mistakes if need be. There had to be more to Finn and his job at the Lodge Hotel that Hazel wasn’t telling her right now, but she figured her friend would confide in her later when she was settled in.

  Hazel smiled again. “I’m so glad you’re here now and we can do things together, starting with the workshop on Friday night. It’s fully booked, with twenty participants. Some of them are regulars. They call themselves the Paper Posse.”

  “Posse?” Delta repeated, not sure she had heard right.

  “Yes, that was Mrs. Cassidy’s idea. She has a slight outlaw obsession. You know these genealogy sites where you can build your family tree, dating back centuries, to see whether you happen to be related to royalty or to a famous inventor?”

  Delta nodded. “I’ve thought about giving it a try, but it’s a lot of work, I heard. Especially if you want to go back farther than just a few generations.”

  “Right. Mrs. Cassidy has been searching for years now, not for a link to the British Crown, but to find an outlaw in her family tree. To quote her, ‘Those who stray outside the law are often more interesting than those who adhere to it.’”

  “That’s an original opinion. Well, as long as she doesn’t bring any outlaws to our workshops, I guess it can’t do any harm.”

  Delta looked around her and breathed the scent of paper. The sun slanting in through the windows made all the colors come even more alive. Outside, traffic hummed, and a pigeon cooed as he strode by the open shop doors, pecking the pavement in search of food scraps.

  Everything was just that little bit more leisurely here, laid-back, at ease. Finally, a break from hectic city life, late-night hours, and deadlines. And all because of Gran. The love of crafting that had been born at her kitchen table all those years ago would now provide Delta’s bread and butter. Play with paper and make money off it too.

  Delta smiled and vowed to herself that she was about to make her grandmother very proud.

  Chapter Two

  Hazel cleared her throat. “Ready to leave?”

  Delta spun around, feeling kind of caught red-handed, standing in front of the long mirror in Hazel’s narrow hallway. She smoothed down the sleek, ankle-length dress she had worn before to office parties. “I’m just worried about the color. Is the red too vibrant? Maybe as workshop host I should blend in with the wallpaper? Like a good butler: there when you need him and otherwise invisible.”

  “Not at all. They have to get to know you tonight and the outfit is their first clue to your personality. Without frills, energetic, and bright.” Hazel winked at her. “Fits you to a tee. What do you think of my pantsuit?” Spreading her arms, Hazel turned in a circle so Delta could admire the black, velvet suit from all sides. She knew her friend hated dresses and hardly ever wore them. “Perfect,” she assured her. “That gold blouse underneath adds a festive touch. Just right for a Glitter Galore theme. But what’s that green stuff in your hand?”

  “Oh…” Hazel glanced at the leaves. “Fresh mint I just cut for the mocktails. I’ll put it in this bag with the other ingredients. Sparkling water, juices, fresh raspberries. The Lodge will provide the glasses, shaker, and strainer. And Rosalyn assured me a waiter would take in the ice we need around the time we’re done with the crafting and ready to create our own mocktails. You carry this bag, I’ll take the box with paper goodies.” Hazel grabbed the big cardboard box from the side table at the front door and gestured for Delta to follow her.

  Outside, they got into Hazel’s Mini Cooper and turned left onto the road that led to the Lodge. Like the rest of the town, it was built on the edge of the lake, but higher up into the foothills, so it offered a gorgeous view of the water and the snow-capped mountains behind it.

  Delta drank in the scene, half-twisted backward in her seat, while Hazel steered the car up the drive leading to the hotel’s large parking lot. It was so full they had to drive around a couple of times to find an empty space.

  “Glad I didn’t come in something like that.” Hazel nodded at a large, dark-gray SUV parked a few spaces away from them. “It would have been hard to fit into this narrow space. Can you squeeze out?”

  Delta opened her door carefully and managed to wring herself through the opening with the bag full of fresh ingredients. The invigorating scent of the mint wafted at her.

  A horse neighed in the distance. Delta turned her head around to locate the sound.

  Hazel laughed. “Welcome to Tundish. That’s not just any horse, but a Taylor horse. The stables are down that road there. They have a couple of horses of their own and stable some for friends. Both Isabel and Rosalyn did show jumping when they were teens, but I suppose they don’t have time for extensive training anymore.”

  Voices resounded from the hotel entrance where people were gathering, exchanging greetings and interested questions about how they had been since last year.

  “You said the party was an annual thing, so for how many years has the hotel been orga
nizing it?” Delta asked.

  “About a hundred, I guess.”

  Delta glanced at her friend. “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Absolutely not.” Hazel grinned at Delta’s astonishment. Balancing the cardboard box with crafting materials in her arms, she fell into step beside her. “Gold miners’ parties are a really old tradition in the area. They started in the twenties when tourism around the lake began to develop. People wanted to get out and explore the great outdoors, but they also wanted to enjoy the comfort and luxury they had at home. The hotel offered just that. Entertainment was part of the experience. They hired singers, dancers, pantomimists. And they also had the guests perform little plays and sketches. They’ve held on to that tradition ever since. The guests’ contributions are a major part of the show tonight.”

  They were at the entrance now, and a tall woman with straight, dark hair, dressed in a purple gown with silver embroidery on the bodice, came over to them. Elbow-length gloves emphasized the twenties vibe of her outfit. “Hazel! Everything is ready for the workshop in the boardroom. I hope you emailed your participants to turn right immediately after entering the hotel? We don’t want them mixed up with our party guests.” There was a slight hint of disapproval in the woman’s voice.

  Hazel said quickly, “Of course. Delta, this is Rosalyn Taylor. She manages the hotel.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” Delta shook the woman’s hand. She tried to find a resemblance to Ray in Rosalyn’s features, but the guarded eyes and polite but chilly smile formed a stark contrast to the golden-boy joviality Ray exuded. Here was a woman who took life seriously. Someone who probably made a lot of demands on herself and others.

  Delta said, “The hotel is in a stunning location. The view of the lake is breathtaking.”

  “Thank you.” Rosalyn’s gaze fell over Delta’s shoulder. “Jonas! You’re late.”

  A tall man with dark hair came over, looking slightly uncomfortable in his tuxedo. He had a professional-looking camera with a long lens around his neck and a dog leash in his right hand. A large German shepherd bounded beside him, sniffing the air and wagging his big, bushy tail.