Room at the Inn for Christmas

by Mary Connealy

  Angel pushed a basket of freshly baked ciabatta rolls in front of Amanda, then a stick of softened butter and a jar of cherry preserves. The warm yeasty smell told her these had only been out of the oven a few minutes.

  “Are you still doing all the cooking here?” Amanda ran her hand down the side of the distinctive jelly jar with Angel’s hand-printed label. She saw a rack of cooling rolls all ready for breakfast tomorrow.

  “I have to cook breakfast somewhere, don’t I?” Angel jerked one shoulder with her bright smile. “I might as well make a big batch of food as a small meal just for myself.”

  As if nobody ate cold cereal for breakfast.

  “And you still put on an afternoon tea?” Amanda wished Angel would admit how hard she worked . . . and that she was tired of it.

  Except the woman didn’t look one bit tired.

  “Yep, but I just bake a cake or some cookies or sweet rolls or scones, whatever matches my mood. I get them in the oven before I start breakfast and they’re done by the time I get food on the table. I only put in two or three hours most days. Your dad had someone else in to clean daily, so I don’t work all that hard.” Angel humphed in disgust, but as always with Angel there was humor accompanying everything. “It’s not even a real job anymore. Your dad was putting me out to pasture. I had to fight Lorrie, our housekeeper, to do the dishes and clean up the kitchen.”

  Cart came and sat across from Amanda. He reached for a warm roll, tore it open and began buttering. “What we need to talk about tonight is this garbage about you selling the Star.”

  Not garbage, just simple truth.

  “That’s right; I’m closing it.”

  “Closing it?” Cart’s butter knife froze as he shouted the words.

  Angel gasped and turned from where she’d just set a teakettle on the stove to heat.

  “Selling it is bad enough,” Cart said. “But you can’t close it.”

  Forging on despite how upset they were, Amanda said, “It will be a good thing for both of you. Angel, you can move back into your own home.”

  After her children were grown and her husband died, Angel had lived in the back of the Star Inn, but as far as Mandy knew, she still owned a nice house in town. “You can spend more time with that grandson you adore, do some traveling. Cart, you can focus on your cattle and horses. I know you’ve made a success of ranching. Dad said you’re just working in here out of habit; you sure don’t need the money. We’ll list the place for sale and see if anyone is interested. They can use it as a bed-and-breakfast or a private home or remodel and rent out apartments if they want.”

  Cart set his butter knife down with a snap. “This place has reservations a year in advance.”

  “We’ll have to cancel them. Heaven knows canceling reservations is common enough in the hotel industry.” And she oughta know since she worked for the Halston at their flagship hotel in Beverly Hills.

  “This isn’t one of your posh hotels sitting in a row of other posh hotels, Mandy. If people can’t stay here, they can’t stay at all. It’s the anchor of the town square. What will Heywood do if one whole side of the square is an empty house sitting in darkness?”

  Amanda clamped her jaw tight to keep from getting into a pointless argument. Her decision had been made.

  “And what about the tourists who stay here? They do a lot of shopping and eating around town.”

  “There are other hotels.”

  “No, there is one motel, decent but strictly discount and out near the highway; a lot of those folks don’t even come downtown.”

  Angel scooted in beside Amanda.

  She was well and truly surrounded.

  “You can’t just close it, honey. Surely you can see that. If you’re determined to sell, it’ll be much more valuable if it’s kept open.”

  “Well, there’s no one to run it, and I refuse to make you do it, Angel. I know how hard you work already, no matter how easy you make it sound.” In fact, Angel had been doing everything since Dad had died. It had to be exhausting. “I’m not loading more on your shoulders. And Lorrie is, I’m sure, working much longer days that she planned on when she was hired. And Cart, you don’t have time to—”

  “Mandy,” Cart cut her off, “you’re right we can’t do it. We’re doing what we’ve always done and that’s about all we have time for. We’ve been keeping things going, but it’s too much. It’s your dad that needs to be replaced. Lou Star was the man who made things work. He was the host. He welcomed people and made sure they were comfortable. He joined them for breakfast and hosted the afternoon tea. He was in charge of ordering and billing. I did the repairs, and I’ve been doing my best to keep up with the account books since he died. But Lou’s the one who kept his eyes open for problems. He’s the one who ran this place.”

  “I know all of that, Cart. I promise you I know exactly how badly my dad will be missed. Most especially by me, in case you don’t know that.” She fought down her anger. “And I understand that the inn can’t run without him. That’s why I’m closing up shop.”

  Shaking his head, Cart almost looked like he pitied her. “You’ve been away so long you’re forgotten what a vital part of this town your old home is. The town needs you. We need you. We’re not managing the inn, and you’re not closing it. You’ve got to run it yourself. Mandy, it’s time to come home.”

  Chapter Two

  She laughed.

  Cart slapped the table hard with the flat of his hand. “There’s not a single thing funny about this.”

  He wanted to drag her out of that booth and shake her until her teeth rattled. Until that tight bun fell out and her blond hair swung free like it had when she was a kid. Until her golden eyes flashed and she admitted there was nothing funny about any of this.

  “This isn’t my home, Cart.” She waved a perfectly manicured hand at him like he and the inn were pesky flies she didn’t want near her. “It hasn’t been for a long time. I’ve got a career in California. I shouldn’t even be here, now. I’ve got an upcoming board meeting that’s vital to—”

  “Don’t give me vital,” Cart cut her off. He fought to control his anger. “In Los Angeles you’re doing a job a thousand people could do.”

  Angel flinched. Cart wondered what he’d said. Then he saw the fire in Mandy’s eyes. He didn’t want a fight; he just wanted her to do exactly what he asked and not give him any grief about it.

  He had to make her understand. “I’m not saying you’re not great at your job; it’s clear you are.”

  How often had her dad told him about promotions and raises? In the four years since she’d graduated from college and taken the job with Halston, she’d worked her way up until she was knocking on the door of jobs that were a pathway to the executive suite. Lou was so proud of her he never shut up about how well she was doing. And here she was, dressed like the world’s most delicious caramel sundae, designer labels so famous even Cart recognized them. Perfect makeup on a beautiful face that he’d almost never seen with anything more than lip gloss. Why bother when her lashes were so lush and her golden eyes so shining, her skin so flawless and her hair so richly blond? Cart didn’t know much about valuable jewelry, but he’d bet she had real gold in her watch and in the beautiful ring she wore—not on any important finger. Her small hoop earrings and her delicate chain necklace were the same shining gold, and she wore it all with such ease it proved every word her dad said.

  “And I’m not surprised you’re a big success at Halston. You’re a natural for the hospitality industry, born and raised in it. Trained by two of the very best. But Halston can replace you”—he snapped his fingers—“like that.”

  Angel flinched again.

  As if she was being any help.

  Finally, Angel talked. “What he means is here at the Star you are irreplaceable.”

  Of course that’s what he’d meant. That was exactly what he’d said. He glowered at Angel, who didn’t give him a single glance.

  “There’s only one Mandy Star
. There’s only one member of the Star family left who understands the traditions and open arms that are part of sharing this home with the public. Your great-grandparents bought it, standing empty, abandoned for years by the old lumber titan who built it.”

  “I know my home’s history, Angel.” Mandy rolled her eyes.

  “If you do, then why isn’t it important to you, your parents’ only child?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Your grandparents took over when your great-grandfather died. Then your dad took over for his folks, and now it’s yours to love and preserve. It’s your heritage and it can be a blessing to you as much as you can be to it. The Star Inn needs you to love it and carry on the traditions begun here.”

  Angel was kind, gentle. Loving. Okay, maybe he should’ve gone with that instead of yelling.

  He clamped his mouth shut to let Angel handle this.

  She laid both her hands over one of Mandy’s clenched fists. “And we’ve missed you, Mandy. I know you’ve done well and the future could be bright for you at Halston. Your dad was so proud of you he glowed as bright as the star on top of this house. And he never, ever wanted to hold you back. But in recent years, he’s needed you. We’ve all needed you. He always thought you’d go out and see the world and have a wonderful time, and then you’d come back.”

  “No he didn’t. He never wanted me to come back here.”

  That cooled Cart down like a bucket of ice water dashed in his face. “Yes he did.”

  “No, he was adamant that I get out of Heywood, make something of myself. He said the inn would be like an anchor holding me back.”

  A deep silence froze the table until they could hear the clock ticking in the kitchen, and that was pretty crazy quiet since the clock was battery operated.

  Finally, Angel asked, “When did he say that?”

  Mandy shrugged. “All the time. He started when I was close to college graduation. I’d planned to come back.”

  “And your dad said what?” Angel sounded skeptical, but Cart saw by Mandy’s hurt expression she was telling the absolute truth. It made no sense, but Lou Star had really told his daughter there was no job here for her.

  “He said there was no room at the inn?” Angel asked.

  Mandy flinched; then a smile snuck onto her face. Her fists relaxed back into hands. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  Angel laughed just for a second; then she said, “Could he have just said that because he thought that was what you wanted? Because I felt a longing in him for you to come back. I guess he never said so, but I always thought that was his dearest wish.” Angel looked at Cart. “Didn’t you think that?”

  “Yes, I wondered how long you’d wait. Your dad wasn’t all that old, seventy-two isn’t that old these days, but he was long past retirement age. I figured he was keeping things going until you came back.”

  “I think he kept working because the inn was his link to Mom.”

  “And to you, Mandy.” Cart leaned forward, the table kept them apart, but he wanted her to hear him. “And this is your link to them.”

  Without thinking, he reached across and took her other hand. Now he and Angel both had her. “Your roots are here, and I remember when you were a kid, you loved this old house and you loved the folks that came to visit. You were a natural. I’m sure you’re wonderful at your job. How could you not be? But I always thought you liked the personal connection with visitors and with the staff.”

  His voice faded when he realized by “staff” he meant himself. He’d thought she liked the personal connection with him.

  Mandy looked at him, then suddenly pulled her hands free. “Go home, Cart or Anthony or whatever your name is now. Your family probably hates this place for keeping you busy late at night.”

  Cart narrowed his eyes. “I live out at my ranch alone, Mandy. No one’s waiting for me.”

  And the look on her face was nothing short of stunned.

  “What do you mean? Dad said you’re married. Surely you have kids by now.”

  Cart shook his head hard, like a wet dog, then slowly stood, maybe trying to get a little distance from what she’d said. “Your father told you I was married?”

  Mandy opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Fish impersonation.

  “You aren’t?”

  “No.”

  “Divorced?”

  “Never married.” He’d come close once—well, not all that close as it turned out. The burn had left scars. He liked to think he was a lot wiser about women than he’d been then. But Tara had happened well after Mandy’s decision not to come home.

  She sat, her golden hazel eyes locked on his, as if she was looking into his mind—or maybe into the past. Finally, the gaze broke and she looked down at the table, through the table.

  “Mandy, he can’t have said—”

  “Hang on a second.” She slashed a hand at him and cut him off. “I’m trying to remember what he said. He mentioned you often when we visited, but he told me . . . I-I remember that one time, right before I graduated from college, he said you were engaged. And at the same time he said there wasn’t enough money to support another person in the inn.”

  That brought her head up. “Could that be it? I don’t really know anything about Dad’s finances. I’m his sole heir, but I don’t know what that amounts to. Is the Star struggling? That might explain why he-he didn’t . . . want me h-here.”

  Cart heard the confused ache.

  “The inn is doing well,” Cart said. No sense lying, was there? It might protect her feelings right now, but she was going to see the books pretty soon. “I helped your dad get things in order for taxes this year. I can write checks on the inn for repair parts and there’s plenty of money in the bank. Your dad has significant investments, too. In fact, he has part ownership of the strip mall that went in on the edge of town.”

  Angel added, “Remember he donated enough to the new hospital that he got his name on a brass plaque they put up on the lobby. I think those were for donors who gave ten thousand dollars or more.”

  Mandy gasped. Cart didn’t blame her.

  “I’m on the board at church,” Cart added. “He was very generous there. There’s no debt on the inn and never has been. It was paid for even before your grandad inherited it. And your mom had a large life insurance policy that I know your dad set aside for you and has never touched.”

  “Not even when he paid for my college?”

  “Nope. That came out of profits from the inn. And structurally it’s in good shape. Well, the boiler’s the same old one, but we completely redid the plumbing and wiring two years back. He got a new roof last year. Your dad paid cash for all of that. I saw it because it shows in the depreciation schedule on his taxes. He had the money to do it.”

  “You’re sure about this?” Angel spoke directly to Mandy, her voice so quiet Cart barely heard her. “You didn’t misunderstand, about Cart or about your dad not wanting you here or there being money troubles?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “I didn’t misunderstand. In fact, I’ve been dreading going over the details of the will, worried I’ve inherited so much debt, I’d be lucky to sell the inn and settle all I owe.”

  She looked up, her eyes full of hurt. “It doesn’t make sense, but for some reason Dad didn’t want me here.”

  Cart kinda wished she’d go back to laughing.

  Her phone dinged with an incoming text and she pulled it out and studied the message; then, with her shoulder slumped, she held the phone tight enough her knuckles were white. “I’ve left too much undone back in LA, and the year-end is coming. It’s tons of work getting ready for that.” She paused, her slender hand gesturing absently. The gesture seemed so lost Cart wanted to scoop her up in a hug. “But I won’t call Benji tomorrow. I want to see how the old place is running. I want to spend a couple of days on this side of the hospitality business. It’s said that you can’t go home again; well, I think that’s true for me. If I came back I’d probably s
pend the rest of my life here trying to decide if my father really loved me.”

  Angel wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Of course he loved you, Mandy.”

  “Was he trying to keep me away out of some twisted notion rooted in love or did he just not want me around?”

  “But you are going to give the Star Inn a chance?” Cart wanted more. A couple of days would keep her here for Christmas. It was a joyful, beautiful time in Heywood, and he wished she’d be a part of it. It might not help her decide to stay, but at least she wasn’t calling Benji yet.

  Cart would have guessed Lou Star was one of his best friends. And Lou was a man who loved his daughter and missed her. Why lie to Mandy about a marriage? Why lie about money trouble? Why keep her away?

  Lots of questions and, with Christmas a few days away, an inn full of guests and festivities around town nearly every night, they didn’t have much time to answer them.

  “I’ll give the inn at least a few days.” She sounded determined, but her chin dropped and her eyes looked watery with unshed tears. “I’m afraid this year will be the same as every year since I graduated from college. I’m going to find out that there is no room for me at the inn.”

  Chapter Three

  Friday, December 23

  Mandy would’ve bet she’d never sleep, not for one second, not after the way they’d talked about Dad. Not after finding out Cart was single and always had been.

  Back in LA sleep was usually a torment, which was why she stayed long hours at the office and got up to go in early—if she was awake, she might as well be working.

  Then she lived mostly on caffeine and that gave her a stomachache that made eating hard, which trotted out the antacids. She’d lost ten pounds since she started at Halston.

  This time, in her old bedroom, she’d been wrong. Her eyes opened after a long, restful night. She still was exhausted and she wondered if sleeping here for a week or two might be necessary for her to heal the synapses in her brain that were wrecked by her insomnia.