by Sara Orwig
When she turned the register around, she read what he had signed. “This gives a Dallas address. Do you consider Dallas home instead of Verity?”
“I live and work in Dallas most of the time. I also have a ranch in west Texas. The closest town is Verity,” he replied. She nodded as she gathered more papers to hand to him.
“So you’re a hobby rancher,” she said.
“Yes, at least for now. Someday I’ll move to the ranch and do that full-time and let someone else run the hotel business for me. I go to the ranch when I get a chance, but that rarely happens,” he admitted, thinking there weren’t many people who knew he missed ranching and wondering why he was telling a stranger.
“Here’s the schedule for tomorrow,” she said. “Normally breakfast runs from seven-thirty until 9:00 a.m. Since no one can get out tomorrow, we’ll start at 8:00 a.m. and go until nine-thirty.”
“Thanks. The breakfast time is fine.”
“I’ll be going back to join the others now unless you have anything else you want to ask me about,” she said, looking up, those wide eyes capturing his full attention again.
“Thanks, no. I’ll follow you.”
“We’ve been singing. I play the piano or leave it to a guest.”
They entered a large living room that ran almost the length of the east side of the house and was furnished in early American maple with a hardwood floor and area rugs. A fire burned low in the fireplace, adding to the inviting appeal of the room. Two small children slept in adults’ arms. Five children sprawled on the floor or in an adult’s lap. A couple of men stood to offer Abby a seat. Smiling, she thanked them and asked the men to sit.
“We’ve been waiting. Let’s sing some more,” someone said.
“Folks, this is another guest—Josh Calhoun of Dallas, Texas,” Abby said, smiling and glancing at him while he acknowledged her introduction with a nod and wave of his hand.
People said hi as Abby crossed the room to slide onto the piano bench. She played a song Josh had heard his grandmother play, a song from his childhood that he was surprised to discover he still knew when he joined in the singing.
As they sang, he watched her play. She was not his type in any manner, other than being a woman. He couldn’t understand his reaction to her. She was plain, with her hair in an unflattering thick ponytail, and she wore no makeup. She ran a bed-and-breakfast inn in a small west Texas town. He would never ask her out.
He looked out the window at the howling storm blowing heavy snow in horizontal waves. Snowflakes struck the warmer storm window, melted slightly, slid to the bottom and built up along the frame. It was a cozy winter scene, but he wished he were flying home tonight.
Relaxing, he leaned back in the chair and sang with the others while he reflected that he hadn’t experienced an evening like this in years. He felt as if he had stepped back to a different time and way of life, and he began to relax and enjoy himself.
After another half hour, Abby turned and slid off the piano bench to take a bow. “That should do for tonight’s songfest. Does anyone want hot chocolate? If so, I’ll be glad to make some. The entertainment room is open, and Mr. Julius said he will be in charge of the movie. Right now, for hot cocoa, just come to the kitchen.”
She left the room. People followed her out until Josh was the only one left. He turned off all the lights except one. He sat again, stretching out his legs and leaning back to gaze at the snow. A few red embers of the dying fire glowed brightly in gray ashes.
He heard tapping and looked again at the window. Sleet struck the glass, building up swiftly on top of the snow at the bottom. He placed his hands behind his head. He couldn’t go anywhere or do anything for the rest of the night and probably all day tomorrow. As a peaceful contentment filled him, he thought that an unplanned holiday had befallen him, and he intended to enjoy it.
“You don’t want any hot chocolate?”
He glanced around to see Abby entering the room. As he stood, she motioned to him to be seated. “No, thanks,” he said. “I’m enjoying the quiet and the storm now that I’m inside and it’s outside. I’m beginning to think I’m getting a much-needed vacation.”
“That’s a good way to look at being stranded. I usually let the fire burn out this time of night. Did you plan to sit here a lot longer?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Let the fire die. I’ll turn out the light when I go. If you aren’t going to watch the movie, sit and join me,” he said.
“Thanks. I will while I can. Mr. Julius knows how to deal with the movie.”
“My cabdriver said you’re single. This is a big place to run by yourself.”
“I’m definitely not by myself,” she said, smiling as she sat in a rocker. “I have a long list of people I can rely on for help. I have a brother and a sister nearby, and my grandmother lives here part of the time. I can turn to her for advice if I need it because she used to own and run this place.”
“So there are three kids in your family?”
“Right. I’m the oldest. The next is my brother, twenty-year-old Justin, in his second year at a nearby junior college on an academic scholarship. He helps with the bed-and-breakfast and lives at home with Mom. Arden, the youngest at seventeen, is a junior in high school, and she also works here at the inn and lives at home. What about you?”
“I’ve got two brothers and one sister. This is a big bed-and-breakfast—I’m surprised it doesn’t hold more people than you listed earlier.”
“I mentioned the people on the third floor who are permanent residents. My grandmother stays here about half of the year. I have two great-aunts who live here part of the year, and I have Mr. Hickman, who is elderly. His family is in Dallas. He’s told me that his married sons run a business he had. They have asked him to move to Dallas and live with them, but he grew up here and came back here when he retired and his wife was still living. I think she’s the one who wanted to return to Beckett because she still had relatives here. His wife was my grandmother’s best friend, so he lives here. He has a little hearing problem, but he’s in relatively good health. There is an elevator the elderly residents can take, so they don’t use the stairs. My aunts and my grandmother are gone right now—my grandmother at Mom’s and my aunts visiting their families.”
“Do you have to take care of them?”
“No, not really. I have a van and drive them to town once a week, and I’ll take them to church. My brother or sister or I take them for haircuts, little things. They just need someone around. By living here, they have that. My great-aunts’ families have scattered and are on both coasts. They don’t want to move, but they may have to someday. Right now, they’re happy here with my grandmother and our part of the family.”
“That’s commendable of you to let them live here. You’re young to be tied down to a bed-and-breakfast.”
“I’m over twenty-one,” she said, smiling at him. “Twenty-five to be exact.”
“This is a lot of responsibility,” he remarked, noting that her attire hid her figure, except for the V-neck of her sweater, which revealed curves. Also, even in suede boots, it was obvious she had long legs as she stretched them out and crossed her feet at her ankles.
“It’s fun, and I meet interesting people. I can work here in my hometown, actually work at home.”
“For some, working at home in your hometown is a drawback, not a plus,” he said, thinking he didn’t know a single woman like her with such a simple life.
“For me it’s a definite plus. I’ve never been out of Texas and never been out of my hometown much beyond Dallas or north to Wichita Falls or around west Texas, south to San Antonio once. I don’t really want to go anywhere else. Everyone I love is here.”
Thinking of his own travels, Josh smiled. “You’re a homebody.”
“Very much of one,” she said. “I suspect you’re not,
and you sound as if you’re a busy man. Are you married, Josh?”
“No, I’m single, not into commitment at this point in my life. I travel a lot, and this is a job I like,” he said. “Or have liked. At heart I’m a rancher, which is why I came to Beckett to see about a horse.”
Big blue eyes studied him, and he thought again how easy it was to look at her.
“You have two vastly different interests—I guess, vocations—ranching and the corporate world,” she said. “Does your family live close?”
My siblings are here in Texas, but our parents retired in California. Are both your parents next door?”
“Mom is. She’s divorced. She’s Nell Donovan, a hairdresser who has a shop in her house. Her story is well-known in town, so it’s no secret—my dad ran off with a younger woman he met on his business travels. That was when I was fourteen. He traveled a lot.”
“Sorry that he left your mother and your family.”
“We hardly saw him anyway because of his job.”
“So besides this inn and family, what do you like to do?”
“Gardening, swimming. I’d like to have a pool here, but so far, that hasn’t worked out. I like little kids. Once a week I have a story hour at the library and read to preschool kids. I also like movies and tennis.”
The thought flitted to mind again to ask her to dinner when the storm was over and the snow melted. Instantly, he vetoed his own thought. She was the earnest type who would take everything seriously. With a sigh, he turned back to look at the fire, trying to forget her sitting so close. It was even more difficult to ignore the tingly awareness of her that he couldn’t shake.
“Is there a guy in your life?”
“Sort of,” she said, smiling. “There’s someone local. We’ve grown up knowing each other, and we like the same things, so we occasionally go out together. I always figure someday we’ll marry, but we seldom talk about it. Neither of us is in a hurry.”
“That doesn’t sound too serious,” Josh said, wondering what kind of man the guy was to have that type of relationship.
She shrugged. “We’re after the same things. He wants never to move from Beckett, and I don’t either. Our lives are tied up here. He’s an accountant, and we’re both busy. It’s pretty simple.”
They lapsed into silence. Josh wondered if in a few months he would even remember her.
“I hope no one else appears on your doorstep and wants shelter,” he remarked after a time. “I have two blankets, and I’d feel compelled to give him a blanket and let him sleep on the floor in the room I have.”
“I’ve turned off the porch light, and I can’t take anyone else. In the morning I’ll have to cook for thirty-five people. We barely have enough of certain food items, and my brother and sister are both out of town, so I’m without help. I can’t handle another person.”
“I’ll help you cook breakfast,” Josh volunteered, the words coming without thought.
She laughed softly. “Thanks. You don’t look like the type to have done much kitchen work.”
He grinned. “I’m a man of many talents,” he joked. “I’ve cooked. I’ve camped and cooked, cooked as a kid. Occasionally I cook at home, but rarely, I’ll admit. I can help. I can serve and that sort of thing.”
“Watch out, I’ll take you up on your offer.”
“I mean it. I’ll help you,” he said, still wondering why he was so drawn to her. He should have gone to bed an hour ago or when he arrived. “What time will you begin cooking?”
“About six. You don’t have to get up that early.”
“I’m usually up that early. I’ll set the alarm on my phone,” he said, getting his phone from his pocket. “I haven’t had a call since I arrived,” he added, realizing that was a switch in his life, as different as so many other things about this night.
“You surely don’t get many calls at night.”
“Sometimes. Not getting any is a unique change in my life, and I can live with it tonight easily.” He put away his phone. “It’s like a holiday. Tell me more about your family.”
He settled back in the chair, listening and talking to her as the fire died into gray ashes. It was after one in the morning when she stood. “I should go to bed. Six a.m. will come soon.”
He stood to walk with her, stopping at the door to his room for the night. “I’ll see you at six. Thanks again for this room.”
“Thanks for offering to help in the morning. Good night, Josh.”
“Good night,” he replied in a husky voice, gazing into her eyes and as riveted as he had been the first moment he had seen her. Still puzzled by his reaction to her, he turned to his door.
Then he glanced down the hall to see her ponytail swing with each step as she walked away. There was nothing about her that should set his heart racing, but it did. He still wanted her in his arms, wanted to kiss her at least, before he left Beckett forever. What made his heart beat even faster were the slight reactions she’d had—her blue eyes widening, a sudden breathless moment in which neither of them spoke—that told him she had felt something, too. He didn’t intend to let that go by without doing something to satisfy his curiosity.
Two
Certain Josh stood watching her, Abby felt her back tingle as she walked to her door. What was it about him that made her heartbeat race and took her breath away? She hadn’t had that kind of reaction to anyone since she was a teenager. She occasionally dated Lamont Nealey, who lived close by. She had grown up friends with him, closer friends than with any other man, but he never stirred a quicker heartbeat. A slight physical contact with Lamont never made her tingle all over.
As she changed into flannel pajamas, she kept glancing at the door that separated her from Josh. She couldn’t shake her awareness of him so close at hand.
She smiled as she thought about his offer of help with breakfast because he had to be wealthy and influential. He probably had a lot of people working for him and keeping him from everyday tasks. She didn’t really expect him to pitch in and help.
* * *
The first thing Abby did on waking was slip into her robe and shove her feet into fuzzy slippers to walk to the window. While the wind continued to howl, she opened the drapes and stared at the falling snow. It meant more business, but she never lacked long for business. It was the third weekend in March. A snowstorm rarely occurred so late, but this had been a cold winter in Beckett. With more snow, no one would be leaving the inn, and her brother and sister couldn’t get home, so she had a day of work ahead of her.
She glanced at the closed door to the sitting room and wondered how Josh had fared on her short sofa. Her gaze went to the clock, and she hurried to shower.
She spent too long deciding what to wear, finally giving up and pulling on faded jeans, a green sweater and her suede boots. She had told Josh 6:00 a.m. but went to the kitchen half an hour earlier so she could get started alone.
At six on the dot she heard his boots against the wood floor, and her pulse speeded—something she wished wouldn’t happen.
“Good morning,” Josh said, bringing a dynamic charge into the air as he smiled at her. He had on a navy sweater, jeans and boots and looked like a cowboy in an ad in one of the Western magazines. “Or at least it’s a good snowy morning. I see more of the white stuff coming down.”
“Sorry. I think you’re stuck for a time. Did you get any sleep on the short sofa?”
“Yes, I did. I’m enormously grateful that I didn’t have to sleep in the lobby of your town’s only hotel.”
“I’m sure they would have let you sit in a chair all night.”
“They had some employees who couldn’t get home, so they were as booked up and as overcrowded as you. I think I was in the town’s only available taxi.”
“I know you were. We have only one taxi, with people takin
g different shifts to drive.”
He smiled. “What can I do to help? It looks as if you’ve been up awhile and working. How about I get the pots and pans washed?”
“Wonderful,” she said, surprised he would pick such a job. “I’m getting the breakfast casseroles made. The biscuit dough is rising. I’ll get the fruit and coffee soon. The table is ready. We’re moving along.”
“What you mean is, you’re moving along. Pretty good for working without any help. You will make someone a good wife,” he said, smiling at her as he crossed the kitchen.
“Are you interested?” she teased, certain there was no way he would have any designs on her—or anyone right now—as a wife. He had been about to pass her, but he stopped and turned to look at her. He stood close, and she wished she could take back her flirty remark.
“If I were looking for a wife, I would want to find out what other qualities you have along with capable, kindhearted and fun. Without looking for a wife, it might be interesting to find out,” he teased back, his eyes twinkling and making her insides flutter.
“I should have stuck to talking about what work needs to be done,” she whispered, wishing she weren’t breathless. “I don’t usually joke like that with the guests.”
“You mean flirt like that with the guests,” he said with amusement, and she could feel the blush that swept across her cheeks. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, and his smile vanished as he looked more intently at her. “Now I really do want to find out,” he said in a deeper tone of voice.
“No, you don’t. It wouldn’t possibly interest you. In every way,” she whispered, “I lead a quiet life without excitement, without the outside world intruding, without—” She stopped to stare at him.
