A Father's Second Chance (Contemporay Christian Romance)

by Mindy Obenhaus

  Chapter Ten

  Celeste waved good-night to Gage and the girls and closed the front door. Leaning against it, she took a deep breath. To say she was blindsided by her mother’s visit would be the understatement of the century. Her mother was a master planner. Even the smallest details were plugged into her day planner, with no room for deviation. So Celeste wasn’t buying that her mother “simply wanted to see her.” Hillary didn’t do anything without a reason.

  Upstairs in the kitchen, she found her mother at the coffeepot, pouring her third cup in less than two hours. While Celeste was a one-cup-in-the-morning kind of girl, her mother would, no doubt, have the poor little four-cup drip machine running from sunup to sundown. It was a good part of the reason her mother was able to maintain her trim figure, because the plain black brew also substituted for many a meal.

  “Everyone get off all right?”

  “Yes.” Celeste snagged the empty mashed potato bowl from the dining table as she passed and continued on to the sink.

  “Cute kids.” Mom leaned her backside against the counter.

  “Aren’t they?” Celeste turned on the water. “I love spending time with them.”

  “I have to say—” her mother cocked her head “—when I decided to visit my daughter, I never expected I’d find such a cozy little scene.”

  Was that a hint of sarcasm in her mother’s voice or simply annoyance? Either way, she needed to douse her mother’s suspicions.

  Celeste rinsed another plate and set it in the dishwasher. “I adore Cassidy and Emma. And their father likes them to have female role models.” She looked at her mother now. “But Gage and I are friends. Nothing more.” Regardless of the feelings he seemed to stir inside her every time they were together.

  “Well, that’s good.” Mom strolled around the peninsula, set her cup on the eat-at counter and pulled herself into one of the counter-height chairs. “Because since you’ve decided to give up everything you’ve ever worked for and pour your heart and soul into that restaurant, there’s no room in your life for a man.”

  This time her mother’s sarcasm was impossible to miss.

  “How long has the restaurant been closed?” Mom peered over the rim of her mug as she took a sip.

  “Since Monday.” Celeste tucked the last plate into the dishwasher, then rinsed the silverware. “I was pleased with how quickly they were able to get the job done. Lord willing, by the end of tomorrow, we’ll have the all-clear and I can focus on reopening.”

  “It’s never good when a business has to close its doors.”

  Celeste shoved her annoyance aside. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been kind of nice having a few days to myself.”

  “You’ve lost a week’s worth of income.”

  “I can handle it, Mom.” She closed the dishwasher and dried her hands on a dish towel, eager to get to the bottom of things. “So, why are you really in Ouray?”

  “Darling, you’re my daughter.” Cup in hand, her mother eased out of the chair and moved into the living room. “I’ve missed you.”

  Celeste followed. She could wipe down the counters later. “You could have let me know you were coming.”

  “And ruin the surprise?” Mom perched on the overstuffed chair, looking somewhere between indignant and feigned innocence.

  “You hate surprises.” Celeste settled on the sofa, grabbed the sage green throw pillow beside her and pulled it into her lap.

  Her mother’s dark eyes narrowed. “Why am I getting the feeling you don’t want me here?”

  Avoiding the question. Classic Hillary. Leaving no doubt that her mother had ulterior motives. And Celeste was certain it had to do with her decision to move to Ouray.

  “Don’t be silly. I’m thrilled that you’re here.” Or at least stunned. “After all, I’ve been trying to get you to come visit for the last six months. I only wish I’d had time to prepare.”

  Mom lifted her cup for another drink, then paused. “I have to say, you look much better than I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Dark circles. Pale skin.” She took a sip. “Your color is actually quite lovely. You must tell me what product you’re using to achieve that natural glow.”

  “Um...the sun.” She fiddled with the pillow’s fringe. “Since I didn’t have to go into the restaurant this week, I was able to spend some time in the mountains and enjoy the outdoors.”

  “Hmm.” Cradling her mug, her mother pretended to take in every nuance of the room.

  “Ouray is an amazing place, Mom. I love my job, the people. It feels amazing to be part of a community.”

  “You’re trying too hard, darling.”

  “What?”

  Standing, her mother set her cup on the coffee table and joined Celeste on the sofa. “Singing the praises of Ouray. I don’t know who you’re trying to convince more, me or yourself.”

  “Why would I—”

  “Celeste, darling, I know it stings to be passed over for a promotion.” Her mother took hold of her hand. “But that doesn’t mean we give up. We simply try harder for the next one.”

  “Promotion?” She never even wanted that promotion. Sure it sounded good on paper, but her head hurt just thinking about the stress that would have come with it.

  “It’s been six months. It’s time to bring this little pity party to a halt. We both know that you don’t belong in Ouray.”

  “Not belong?” Tossing the pillow aside, she shot to her feet. “Are you kidding? This is the first place I’ve ever felt I do belong.” She began to pace. “Back in Texas, I was merely existing. But here, I feel alive. I actually look forward to waking up every morning.”

  “Celeste—”

  “You know what I did today?” She stopped and looked at her mother. “I took a meal to a friend who just had a baby. A simple act, but it was so gratifying. And then I held her baby while they ate. I’ve never held a baby before.” She recalled every nuance, from Katelynn’s little scrunched-up nose to that amazing baby smell. “Do you have any idea how relaxing that can be?”

  “Not when they’re screaming at the top of their lungs because of colic.”

  “Is that all you remember?” Had her mother ever looked on her with the same sense of awe Celeste had felt when holding baby Katelynn? Or had she always been a mistake, an interruption in her mother’s well-planned life?

  “Of course not, darling. You were a beautiful child. So full of promise. Always eager to please.”

  Because she was afraid her mother would end up hating her like she hated Celeste’s father. As long as everything went according to her mother’s plan, life was good.

  Until Granny’s death, Celeste had lived her whole life according to her mother’s plan. A plan Hillary had laid out from the time Celeste was a little girl. What college she would go to, what she’d major in, what company she’d work for...

  But moving to Ouray and reopening Granny’s Kitchen was in no way part of that plan. Despite all of Celeste’s success in the corporate world, this was the first time she’d taken control of her life. And she’d never been happier.

  Looking at her mother, she suddenly wondered if following her dreams would end up costing her the love of the woman she’d worked her whole life to please.

  If so, was it a sacrifice she was willing to make?

  * * *

  In the week and half since Gage and the girls had dinner at Celeste’s, things had progressed smoothly. Despite Hillary’s constant demands. Hillary said jump, Celeste asked how high. Yet whenever Celeste approached her about helping out, Hillary would come up with some lame excuse about not doing manual labor or that she was simply too busy with her own work.

  Needless to say, Gage wasn’t a fan of how she took advantage of Celeste’s giving spirit.
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br />   Nonetheless, the restaurant had reopened and things were back on track with the upstairs units. The entire space had been gutted, plumbing had been reworked and new framing was being set into place. He’d even started looking forward to those times when Celeste would pop in unexpectedly to check on things. Though they weren’t near as frequent as he’d like.

  Seemed the more they were apart, the more he wished they were together. Just the admission of that drove him crazy.

  Using a nail gun, he drove another nail into a stud. His attraction to the dark-eyed beauty with a heart as big as Texas was growing increasingly difficult to deny. Did he dare offer up his heart again? Not to mention those of his daughters?

  “Gage?”

  Oh, yeah. He was in trouble, all right. Just the sound of Celeste’s voice brought a smile to his face.

  The tapping of high heels against the wooden floor seemed louder than usual. Peering through a small forest of vertical two-by-fours, he observed that Celeste wasn’t alone. Hillary was close behind, her expression one of vague curiosity as she scanned the space.

  “Mom wanted to see how things were coming.” Clad in dark gray slacks and a soft fuzzy red sweater, Celeste looked as pretty as ever. Though, he kind of preferred the jeans-and-boots look of last week.

  “What do you think?” He gestured to the space with his free arm.

  “This is so much brighter than I remember.” Hillary twisted and turned, eyeing every corner. “I used to hate coming up here because it was so dark and depressing.”

  “Our goal is to utilize as much of the natural light as possible.” He set the nail gun on the floor and moved toward the women. “Of course, once the walls go up, we’ll lose a lot of it in the hallway.”

  “Gage suggested we increase the size of the window on the door and add some sidelights,” said Celeste.

  “Some LED lighting in the halls will help, too,” he added.

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that. Good idea.” The way Celeste smiled up at him made his pulse race.

  She continued to walk her mother through the space, showing her how the rooms would be situated, along with the bathrooms and kitchenettes. Her excitement was hard to miss. And the glimmer it brought to her espresso eyes was incredibly appealing.

  Forcing himself not to stare, he pretended to return to his work.

  Celeste’s cell phone rang.

  “Hey, Karla.” She paused. “Okay. I’ll be right there.” She tucked the phone back into the pocket of her slacks. “I need to get back downstairs.”

  “That’s all right, darling. I’m sure Gage won’t mind continuing the tour.”

  Celeste arched a questioning brow in his direction.

  As if he could resist. “No. Of course not.” Though Celeste had already covered most of the high points.

  “Good.” Celeste smiled and headed for the door. “Just come on back down when you’re finished, Mom.”

  “All right, darling.” Hillary waved then turned his way, wearing a smile that appeared a little too forced. “Shall we?”

  Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, he moved into the area that would be the largest of the three suites and gestured to the far wall. “I believe Celeste has decided to leave the stone exposed here.”

  “That’ll add a nice rustic charm.” She ran a hand over the rough surface.

  “We’ll clean it up as much as we can, put some sealer on it.”

  “And what about flooring?”

  “Celeste said she’d like to keep the original hardwood in the main part of the room. Of course, we’ll sand and restain it, then we’ll tile the kitchen and bath areas.”

  “Countertops?”

  “Last I heard she wanted granite.”

  “Good. Good.” Hillary’s scrutiny continued.

  “You know, Celeste designed this layout herself.” For as much as he’d tried to object initially, he had to commend her. Her configuration made the most of each space and her drawing kept everything to scale.

  “Doesn’t surprise me. My daughter has always had an eye for the finer things in life.”

  He scuffed his boot across the time-worn floorboards. “I don’t know about that, but she definitely knows what works and what doesn’t.”

  “All of these upgrades will do wonders for the value of the building.”

  “I suppose. Though, I don’t think Celeste is really concerned about that.”

  Hillary looked at him now. “Don’t kid yourself. My daughter isn’t serious about any of this.”

  “I’d have to politely disagree with you, Hillary. Celeste has put a great deal of time and effort into both the restaurant and these suites.”

  “Oh, I’m certain she has. What I meant was that this whole Ouray thing is nothing more than Celeste sowing some wild oats. Once this project is finished, she’ll be bored in no time.” She closed the short distance between them, her brown eyes alight with amusement. “You see, my daughter is used to the fast-paced life of the big city. And there’s nothing in Ouray that could possibly compete with that.”

  A familiar ache wrapped around Gage’s heart.

  “Thank you for the tour, Gage.” She started for the door. “Keep up the good work.”

  Gage watched the door close behind her. Could Hillary be right? The Celeste she described wasn’t the woman he’d come to know. The Celeste he knew loved Granny’s Kitchen, Ouray and its people. Then again, Hillary was her mother. She’d known Celeste far longer than he had.

  He kicked at a scrap of wood and sent it flying across the room. He was such a fool. Hadn’t Tracy taught him that a leopard didn’t change its spots? Someone like Celeste would never be content in Ouray.

  Drawing a large amount of air into his lungs, he closed his eyes and willed his anger to subside. He may have begun to open his heart, but at least he’d kept his mouth shut. Meaning that as far as Celeste was concerned, they were still nothing more than friends. He’d finish this job, keeping his private life as far away from Celeste as possible, and pray that by the time she said goodbye, his and his daughters’ hearts were still intact.

  * * *

  Aside from the bear incident, Celeste wasn’t one to panic. And since that event was life threatening, it didn’t count. However, waking up to find a layer of snow covering the ground the day before the fall festival was enough to send her to the brink.

  Kids shouldn’t have to wear snow boots for a cake walk. They’d freeze in the bounce house. That is, if they even showed up at all.

  She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. Lord, You are the God of everything. You change times and seasons. Please, please, please let the fall festival be exactly that.

  Although, worst-case scenario, she supposed they could change it to a winter carnival.

  Yeah, right. With pumpkins?

  Grabbing the coffeepot, she moved from one table to the next, refilling cups as needed, all the while staring outside at the white flakes falling to the ground. Any other time, she would have relished the scene. Been excited even.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Gage on his way up the stairs outside. Funny, he usually stopped to check in with her first and grab a cinnamon roll. His departure yesterday had been stealthy, too, and she couldn’t help wondering why. She’d become so accustomed to him letting her know his comings and goings. Not that he needed to. Still, it was kind of nice.

  After fifteen minutes with no sign of Gage, she left her waitress in charge and headed upstairs.

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach, something she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before. Nor should she feel them now. Gage was her employee. So long as he was on the job, what concern was it of hers if he didn’t stop and say good-morning?

  None. Zip, zero, zilch.

  But the part of her that had begun to
think of Gage as more than a friend was really bugged. Which bugged her even more.

  Reaching the small landing at the top of the stairs, she lifted her gaze to discover one of the most stunning views she’d ever seen. All around her, clouds obscured the snowy cliffs, while the jagged slopes and conifers looked as though they’d been dusted with powdered sugar. A spectacular sight. One that she would enjoy so much more after tomorrow.

  Turning, she reached for the door handle and paused. What was she going to say to Gage? Good morning? You forgot to check in?

  She’d sound like a stalker.

  The festival. That’s right, he was supposed to drive to Montrose today and pick up the inflatables.

  Inside, the sound of a lone hammer echoed through the space and the aroma of lumber filled her nostrils.

  She spotted Gage, pounding nails into a board. Moving closer, she pointed to the nail gun on the floor. “I thought you said it was faster to use this?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then why are you using a hammer?”

  “What’s the problem?” He looked at her now, his expression surly. “You in a hurry?”

  “If you’ll recall, I was hoping to have them ready in time for the ice—” Something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing.” He set another nail to the wood and began pounding again.

  She raised her voice. “Well, if this is nothing, I’d sure hate to see something.”

  The hammering halted and he glared at her.

  “Come on, Gage. Talk to me.” Taking a step closer, she laid a hand to his arm. “Something’s bothering you.”

  His gaze fell to her hand, then lifted to her face. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Clueless as to what he was talking about, she searched his midnight eyes for clues. “Tell you what?”

  He pulled away now, tossed the hammer in his toolbox. “You know, your mother may have her faults, but at least she doesn’t beat around the bush. She told me you were leaving.”

  “Leaving?” As much as she loved her mother, Celeste just might have to wring her neck. “Why would she tell you I’m leaving?”