“Sleep that knits up the raveled sleeve of care. Chief nourisher in life’s feast.” Where had she learned that saying? And just how unraveled was she? Just how malnourished? She’d like to give the inn a chance to nourish her. Knit her unraveled mind back together.
With wakefulness came thoughts of the night before.
Dad had told her not to come home, but Cart and Angel agreed that he wanted her here.
Cart had never married. Dad said he had.
The inn had financial troubles. The inn was debt-free and well fixed.
Cart was single.
The thoughts chased in circles through her head and kept coming back to the same spot.
Dad had lied to her.
Why?
There would never be a chance to ask him, to find out his reasons for those lies
Cart had brought in her suitcase and it sat there, opened. She’d dug out pajamas, hung her few clothes in her old closet and collapsed into bed for the best night’s sleep she’d had in years.
She’d found a few things of hers in that closet and it bothered her that Dad had kept this room just as she’d left it, as if it waited for her.
The thoughts chasing through her head were driving her mad. Because her solution to everything was to work, she was dressed and was out in the kitchen before Angel got going.
There would be tables to wait on, so she’d dressed in a pair of black slacks and a bright red long-sleeved T-shirt with a white star outlined and sprinkled with glittery white stardust. Dressy enough to represent the inn well, but also easily washable.
She wore her most comfortable walking shoes. A waitress had to be mindful of her feet.
As she came out into the short hallway that led to the kitchen, she looked at the door across from hers. Angel lived in there, in a suite of rooms across from Amanda, and had since her husband’s death.
Before she’d gone to bed, Angel had mentioned that her eight-year-old grandson, Toby, was staying with her sometimes and was there last night. It might slow Angel down, though not much did. Amanda went on to the kitchen and found a tidy menu set up for breakfast.
She looked around and saw how modern everything was. This hadn’t registered last night.
Cart had listed all Dad had done to maintain the Star Inn but hadn’t mentioned new professional-quality appliances, granite countertops and tile floors. The room gleamed with bright, clean paint, shining faucets and high-quality cookware and knives. Everything was state-of-the-art. Paid for by Dad with money he claimed he didn’t have.
Shaking her head to dislodge the jumbled thoughts, she felt something deep shift inside her. She had a good and growing career back in LA, but this was her home.
The weight of running this house settled on her shoulders, and she knew she could bear that weight. But did she want to?
Last night she’d agreed to give the inn a chance, and she’d do it.
She thought of the new condo she’d bought in LA with a monthly mortgage that was barely affordable. She made a nice living and drove a good car. Her condo was comfortably furnished. She even had the wardrobe for that life, business suits and sensible low-heeled pumps.
Going back to that familiar life would be so easy. But coming home drew her, too.
She wasn’t sure if a few days were enough, but that’s all she dared give the Star. Right now she managed the Halston Beverly, but she’d been steadily working toward that big promotion. It put her on track for advancement into the corporate side and away from day-to-day management of a single hotel. A motion to her left drew her out of her thoughts.
The inn’s white tomcat with the black-tipped tail stirred from a small basket near the oven. Dipstick they’d named him because he looked like his tail had been dipped in oil.
A smile broke out on her face as she knelt beside the old tom and ran her hand down his back. The cat purred and arched as he enjoyed the caress, then walked right up her knees and butted her shirtfront with his head wanting a scratch. Dipstick had always been able to let her know just what he wanted.
“I missed you.”
The purr seemed like the cat was returning the sentiment. This was the best part yet of coming home. After sharing a sweet moment with her old pet, she washed up and turned to the list Angel had left in the same spot Amanda’s mother had always left one. With a few tricks of her own, learned at her mother’s side, Amanda. . . . no . . . Mandy. When she was here, she was Mandy. Why spend time fighting it?
Mandy dived into the morning, starting by mixing up a batch of her mother’s favorite cookies. Whatever Angel had planned was fine, but Mandy would add these to the dessert tray.
Chocolate star cookies.
Mom had considered star cookies for the Star Inn to be a signature Christmas treat.
Mandy had the first pan baking when Angel came in with a basket of fresh vegetables. Angel’s list had told her breakfast today was a broccoli quiche, so by the time Angel arrived with the main ingredient—the broccoli—Mandy had the crusts almost ready.
“It smells wonderful.” Angel beamed as she set her basket aside. Today’s outfit was pine green; in fact, she’d gone to a fair effort to resemble a Christmas tree, including ornaments dotting the long, flowing top and a headband on her blond spikes with a bobbing, sparkling star on the top of a spring standing straight up from the headband.
Even her reading glasses were green, which she donned as she began to do close work.
“I’ll mix up the quiche filling.” Angel slid a big package of red raspberries toward Mandy. “If you get done with those crusts first, you can get muffins going. I’ve got the recipe in my head, but there’s a cookbook in the cupboard over the sink.”
With a grin Mandy was afraid might be cocky, she said, “I’ve got the recipe in my head, too. I remember you and Mom wrangling over every recipe, tweaking them to get them just right. I can make ten different kinds of muffins without cracking open a cookbook.”
They worked, rolling and chopping, stirring and switching cookie pans in and out of the oven. Visiting, catching up on each other’s lives. They discussed Mandy’s old acquaintances from Heywood. Angel gushed about her grandson Toby, who was still sleeping in the back. Mandy smiled at the pride in the other woman’s voice. According to Angel, Toby was unusually good-looking, had a genius IQ—though of course he was too young to be officially tested—and was also musically, athletically and artistically gifted. Angel told Mandy so in great detail with a lot of laughter.
They had the quiche nearly baked and frozen fruit cups softening for breakfast, the muffins were piping hot and the last sheet of cookies was cooling on a rack when Angel heard her grandson call out “good morning.”
“I always ask him to let me know when he gets up. He needs a little help getting dressed, but he mostly gets himself ready to go in the morning.”
But Mandy heard some worry in Angel’s voice and suspected Angel didn’t like leaving the little boy on his own for any length of time.
“Go on back and get him dressed and off to school. I can handle things here. I’ll get the quiche out of the oven and serve breakfast. Folks usually come down a few at a time, so I can keep up. Take him a muffin and a fruit cup.”
“I always feed him from whatever’s on the menu.” After a moment’s hesitation, Angel gave Mandy a relieved smile. “It’s nice having you home, Mandy. I know you can handle it. I just hate to dump it all on you the first morning.”
Mandy gave her a wave to shoo her away. “Go, spend some time with your grandson.”
“I think I just will. Holler if you need help.” Angel rushed away.
The door swung shut on Angel and Mandy had just pulled the quiches out of the oven and set them to cool when Mandy heard the first guests coming down the stairs. Those beautiful old steps still creaked in exactly the same places. Breakfast time and she was on her own.
For the next hour, Mandy did some serious running. New folks came in every few minutes. She easily kept up with serving them and also g
ot a chance to welcome them personally and learn their names.
She also found a growing list of needs in their rooms. Nothing drastic, but there was a flickering light fixture in Room One, a dripping faucet on the third floor. One woman rather apologetically wondered if there was too much of a draft coming through her window. All of these requests and a few more, standard problems in an old building, were made politely, and Mandy responded the same way.
She thought of all the over-stressed people, always in a hurry, coming and going from the Halston Beverly where she worked. Guests here were different. Oh, maybe they’d be the same in a big city with big plans and connections to be made and the constant crowds and rushing traffic. But the whole point of the Star Inn and Heywood was to get away from all that. Here folks had come to relax, to enjoy pretty scenery, the beauty of Mount Hood, and the Christmas decorations that adorned the town. Everyone had time to ask for help. The folks all thanked her so nicely when she assured them things would be seen to.
And knowing Cart would come in for a while after his morning chores meant she didn’t have to stretch the truth or reply with vague promises she wasn’t sure she could keep. Things really would be seen to right away.
Through all this she was on her feet, serving meals, plating food and bussing tables. She was also answering questions, extolling the beauty of Heywood, handing out brochures from a rack by the front door to town attractions and giving directions. There were questions she couldn’t answer because of course things had changed since she’d been gone. But she was surprised how many old traditions had survived.
This was very different from the hotel business she was used to. Better in many ways, but also hard work that was testing some muscles—both physical and mental—that Mandy hadn’t used in a while.
As Mandy began rinsing off the plates from the last guest to add to the dishwasher, Angel came out and stopped short.
“You’re done.” Angel raised her arms in dismay. “I hoped I could do some of the work.”
“It’s fine. I enjoyed meeting all the folks staying here.”
“Well, you’re a blessing to me. Thank you so much. Toby’s used to doing a lot for himself when he stays with Grandma, and he’s very capable of it. But I enjoyed spending some time with him this morning.”
“Plan on doing it every morning he’s here.”
Angel’s eyes went wide and she smiled with obvious delight. “You’re staying then!”
Chapter Four
Cart came in and heard Angel’s excited announcement. He laughed out loud. “That’s great, Mandy. You decided after just one morning?” He rushed up to her, smiling.
“No!” She stepped back, sounding horrified. “I have not decided. I meant I’d help every morning while I’m here.”
That shrunk the smile off Cart’s face. To hear her say it so adamantly might’ve shrunk his heart a little, too. It was a bad way to start the day and it hit him as all wrong. “You don’t have to get so upset just because someone is happy to have you here.”
“No, Cart,” Angel cut in. She knew him well and heard his temper building. And it didn’t happen often. “That’s not how it was.”
“Don’t do my talking for me, Angel. If Cart wants to walk in here and start right in being grouchy, well, it’s good to know. It’s part of what I’d have to handle if I did stay, and I need all the information I can get.”
“In other words, you’re looking for a reason to leave and you’re happy to use me as an excuse.” He couldn’t remember her being so beautiful. Cute, she’d been so cute back then when he was struggling with the heavily indebted ranch he inherited after his father’s death and she was the sassy, sweet daughter of a rich innkeeper, the richest inn in three counties.
He’d taken this job back then to eke out the payments on his place. He kept it even now that his ranch was on solid footing, because he loved this old inn.
And if back then he’d harbored a quiet crush on the girl he often worked with, a girl way too good for a heavily mortgaged rancher, it was nothing compared to what this mature woman did to him.
“I just want to know what I’m getting into. Feel free to be completely honest with me.” Mandy gave him a look so cool it made the outdoors in Oregon in December seem toasty.
It helped him forget about how pretty she was and how much he’d liked grabbing her and twirling her around last night. That one perfect moment of reunion, right before she started talking.
He clamped his jaw tight and when he had his temper under control . . . and he usually didn’t have any trouble with that . . . he changed the subject. “I’ve got work to do. I’ll get on with it.”
“What have you got planned?” That cool, authoritative voice reminded him that she was in charge of a big hotel in Beverly Hills with a future so bright someone oughta toss a tablecloth over her head so the rest of the world could look at her without going blind. “I have a few repair jobs for you.”
After one night? He didn’t say that out loud. “The water heater has been acting up. I bought a new heating element for it, and I can get it installed as soon as the dishwasher quits running. By the time I get set up, it’ll be time.” He looked away from Mandy and only now realized how closely he’d been watching her. Which annoyed him.
He said to Angel, “The cold water will stay on and I’ll holler when I’m going to turn off the hot.”
He stalked out of the room.
“Wait a minute.” Mandy caught up with him just as he reached the basement door. “I have a list of things you need to do.”
Again he bit back a sharp response. Her horrified reaction about staying irritated him until every word she said set his teeth on edge.
“If you want to give me a list of jobs, keep up.” Cart flicked a switch and the dingy cellar lit up bright as day. Rows of fluorescent lights, rectangles with white plastic covers, illuminated every corner. The stairway was well lit for the first time ever. Another thing Lou Star had spent money on.
Cart tromped down the wooden stairs to a huge concrete block basement stacked with bins and boxes. The rest of the house was beautiful, but down here it was strictly utilitarian. Storage, two water heaters, the boiler for the radiators, pipes and ducts and electric wires. All sorts of exciting things down here.
He heard footsteps behind him and already regretted his temper. He turned to apologize, and Mandy almost bumped into him. He stood one step below her on the basement floor and they were nose to nose.
His hands came up to stop her from taking that last step down and plowing into him. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s just that I came in and heard Angel say what she said, and it was what I wanted to hear. It made me really happy.”
His grip tightened on her upper arms, then relaxed and slid downward, almost like a caress.
“And you heard me act like I was horrified by the very thought of staying and it made you—” Her voice dwindled to silence and he figured she was trying to be polite, which was a nice change for one of them. Maybe he oughta take his turn.
“Blow my stack? Bite your head off? Snarl like a grizzly with a sore paw? Snap like a—”
“I was going to say”—Mandy smiled as she interrupted—“it made you . . . upset.”
“I suppose that covers it.” He needed to back up, let her go. Instead he stayed right where he was and took a moment to enjoy her golden eyes striped with brown and green. Eyes that could change color depending on what she wore and the light she stood in. Right now in the fluorescent lighting they glittered like sparks of gold.
“So.” She cleared her throat, then blinked. “Is there really a hot water heater down here?”
And that broke the moment, which he was sure she intended. He stepped away, turned and headed for the back corner. “Yep, except it’s not a hot water heater.”
“Of course it is.”
“No, it’s just a water heater. In fact, if you want to attach a temperature to it, it’s probably a cold water heater. I mean why bother heatin
g water that’s already hot? So—”
“Spare me the plumber semantics. I didn’t spend much time on water and plumbing and furnaces at Halston or here. Show me what you’re doing?”
“You want to help?”
“Well, I’m not mechanically inclined. Once you get past righty tighty and lefty loosey I’m kinda lost. So, I think my help would just slow you down, but running this inn is more than baking muffins and washing linen. And the owner ought to have some knowledge of all aspects of her business. And I did used to tag along with my dad when he worked down here. So let’s see what’s involved in changing a heating element in a water heater. I’m adult enough to admit it when I don’t know something.”
Cart had the fleeting thought that he had a few adult things he wouldn’t mind teaching her.
Saying that out loud would wreck a nice mood.
So he kept quiet and led the way to the darkest corner of this old behemoth basement.
He pointed to a wooden wall with a good-sized door in the center. “That’s the utility room.”
“I used to pretend it was a dungeon and scare myself silly over it.”
Cart smiled over his shoulder at her and wondered if she ever pretended he was her knight in shining armor. “The old boiler’s still there and should probably be replaced. Your dad considered getting a gas furnace—it’s much more modern and efficient, but the ductwork would require ripping walls out, and cutting through floors in spots.”
Pointing to one corner, Cart said, “He did put in a gas furnace strictly for the ground-floor rooms, including your living quarters, because he could run all the ductwork in the basement. But he never went through with updating the whole house. He’d probably have gotten a new boiler at some point, but this one keeps chugging along.”
“The radiators and boiler were always touchy.”
Nodding, Cart said, “And I’m about the only one who knows how to baby the thing along. The radiators in each room need careful, regular maintenance. But it’s fine right now. The water heater I need to fix today isn’t new, but it should work for a good many years yet. When he remodeled all the bathrooms the water volume to the bigger showers was too much for the old water heater. The new one is massive to keep hot water available on all the upper floors.”
Room at the Inn for Christmas Page 3