He’d been thinking the same thing. Not so much about the food flying or the dogs bumping into him, but about taking the empty seat next to Rose.
“Are you enjoying your stay so far?” Mrs. Hart asked.
“Very much so.” He’d thought for sure this trip was going to be a bust without his grandfather yet so far it was turning out to be the best vacation he’d had in ages. “Hart Land is a lovely place.”
“It is.” Fiona Hart nodded. “Not many people see the magic. Too many think only about dollar signs, but Hart Land is special. It’s been blessed for generations.”
“Hopefully my granddaughters will see to it that this place is a joy for many generations to come.” The General stood to refill his coffee. Both dogs had trotted back to their master and remained faithfully at his side.
“I think Poppy is your best bet.” Rose looked over to where her grandfather stood by the coffee urn.
The older man didn’t say a word in response. He only nodded, filled his cup, then turned back around. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“I have to head over to the Hilltop and start organizing the donations. See if I can get a head start on the layout before the actual start of the tournament keeps me too busy.”
“Makes sense.” The General took a sip of coffee, and if Logan wasn’t mistaken, kept a careful eye on both of them.
What was it his grandfather had called him, Old Eagle Eye? The thought made Logan squirm. What exactly was the General seeing?
“Will you be needing any help?” Mrs. Hart asked.
“Extra hands never hurt.”
“Well, I’ll be in town today for the Ladies Art League lunch, perhaps I can scrounge up a few sets of helping hands?” The older woman delicately dabbed each corner of her mouth with the white linen napkin from her lap. If ever a person fit the description of a class act, it was Fiona Hart. The woman managed to carry off distinguished elegance blended with colorful artistry. She must have really been something in her younger days.
“Logan,” the General addressed him. “You’re welcome to join me at the barbershop. There is always an afternoon checkers game, if you have nothing else planned.”
Considering he had not played checkers with anyone since he was a little kid, it wasn’t a bad offer, but he liked a different idea better. “Sounds good,” he said, turning to face Rose. “Unless you can use an extra pair of hands now. I’d be happy to volunteer.”
“Oh, I’m sure that would be quite helpful.” Fiona swept her glance from Logan to Rose. “Don’t you think, dear?”
“I’m afraid it won’t be much fun.”
Logan chuckled. “I was raised working cattle before the sun rose, this will probably be much more entertaining for me than you think.” He didn’t want to sound like a sappy greeting card and say that anything that kept him in the same room as her would make his day, but the sentiment was pretty much on target. Who would have ever thought.
* * * *
“I’ve got several boxes of donations in my room that folks have been dropping off here the last few weeks. That’s as good a place as any to start.” Rose pushed to her feet. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll make better time if both of us bring them downstairs.”
Already standing, Logan looked to the General and back. “Of course.”
Standing in the doorway of her bedroom at Hart House, Rose looked at the boxes to one side. “If you wouldn’t mind grabbing the larger one of those, I’ll start with the smaller boxes.”
“No problem.” He stacked half the boxes, did a knee bend and balanced all three as easily as she managed a stack of pillows. A quick trip downstairs and he was back loading the last of the boxes. “Anything else?”
She shook her head and reached for the binder on her desk. Quickly, she stashed a few loose pieces of paper inside and grabbed a legal pad just in case. Both she and Logan took a quick glance around the room. For her, it was much like checking out of a hotel, making sure she had not left anything important behind.
Waiting by the door, Logan’s expression softened. “Everything about this house calls for people to come in, put their feet up, sit a spell, and enjoy life.”
Rose had to chuckle. “Sit a spell?”
“Hey,” he chuckled back, “I am from Texas. At least I didn’t say y’all could be fixin’ to sit a spell.”
“Fixin’?” Shaking her head, she waited until he was in the hallway to pull the door closed behind them. Falling into step behind him, they proceeded down the hall. “Y’all I understand. But fixin’?”
“It’s a southern thing. The equivalent of getting ready to.”
“I thought as much, but at least y’all comes from you all. That makes sense. Fixing, not so much.”
“Then we won’t get into figure because southerners do a lot of fixing and figuring.”
“You’re right.” She held back a laugh, surprised at how much she enjoyed the silliest of conversations with Logan. “I’d better quit while I’m ahead.”
“Tell me more about the Hilltop?” he asked over his shoulder.
Rose scooted around him and hurried ahead to hold the front door open. “It’s the only hotel this side of the lake. The other side is much more commercial and has more lodging accommodations. Most of the fishermen will be staying across the lake.”
“But the gala is going to be at the Hilltop?”
“That’s right. They have a nice sized banquet facility. The old carriage house, which used to be a stable, was converted into a hall for weddings and other major festivities about five years ago.” She popped the hatch of her SUV open.
“And obviously it’s worked out?” He deposited the boxes beside the others.
“Totally. Not only do locals need a place for big family weddings, graduations and other celebrations, not all destination weddings are to a beach in the Bahamas. We’ve all been amazed how many people want a picturesque wonderland wedding and are willing to come from all ends of the earth to do it in these mountains. Seasons don’t seem to matter, though January snow and October foliage are pretty popular.”
“Makes sense.” Logan opened her driver’s side door for her. Nothing like a little bit of Texas chivalry. “Texas is both flat and hot. If you want mountains covered in snow, this would do the trick.”
“Having lived in places that only had summer three months of the year, I think I’d rather plan a big event locally in warm weather, or travel to warm weather. Anyone who has planned anything big in the Northeast in the winter knows nothing can wreak havoc on plans like a sudden snowstorm. Ice covered anything can totally mess up driving, parking, walking, people slipping on the sidewalk, you name it, things happen. If I were planning a winter wedding, it would probably be in the Bahamas.”
“So you’d like to get married in the Bahamas?”
Rose pulled onto the main road and wondered how had the conversation taken such an odd turn. “Not really. That was a somewhat convoluted way to say if I ever get married, I would prefer to plan a warm weather wedding. Having grown up on this lake, I don’t need to go to the Bahamas for beautiful waterfront.”
“I once had a neighbor who grumbled that the manmade lakes scattered across Texas, no matter how big, just wasn’t the same as the stream filled lakes from where he grew up. After I few days here I’m starting to agree with him.” His gaze drifted out the window into the distance, then turned back to her. “I bet this tournament is going to be a huge success.”
“I certainly hope so. We’ve already sold more tickets to the closing ceremony gala then I had expected. Quite frankly, I’ve been overwhelmed by the amount of people donating. I thought for sure we were going to have to be begging and pleading people to give. I had nightmares that the silent auction tables would be filled with free haircuts from Betty’s Cut and Set, or hammers from Jake’s hardware store, and if we were lucky free dinner at Mabel’s diner.”
“Instead you’ve gotten 18th century furniture, first edition novels, and many other interesting it
ems.”
“Oh yeah.” She turned into the Hilltop parking lot. “We even have a week’s stay at a castle in Scotland.”
“Wow. Who donated that?”
She opened the door and hung one foot out. “You’d be amazed at the friends the General has made through the years. I know I am. At least one of them is a British Earl with a summer home in the highlands.”
Circling around to meet her at the back of the car, Logan reached for the boxes. “Looks like I have to remember not to forget my checkbook.”
“You might be competing with some heavy hitters. I’ve made it a point to invite several of the museum’s bigger donors.” Pulling out the keys that Barb, the owner, had given her, Rose opened the main carriage doors and stepped inside. “You can set those down anywhere.”
“Wow.” Logan blew out a sharp whistle. “Is all of this for the auction?”
Rose nodded. “Yeah, as the donations came in, Barb has been storing them in the back. She told me last night that they’d brought most of it out here for today to make things a little bit easier.”
“Okay, ma’am.” He clicked his heels and bowed at the waist. “Where do we start?”
“The idea is to have all the entrants required to file past the auction items in order to register and then again the last night to get to their tables. We’ll be setting up as much as we can now. The most valuable items will remain under lock and key in the back until registration starts, but we’ll designate an assigned space for it up front.”
He nodded.
“The caterers are in charge of setting up the dinner tables and seating the day before the gala.” She flipped her wrist to check the time. “I’m expecting some help from Cole and his buddies shortly.”
“That’s Lily’s husband?”
“It is.”
They had only set up a few tables when the sound of men’s voices rolled into the hall.
“If it isn’t my wild Irish Rose,” Cole’s friend Peyton called out, loud enough to echo through the nearly empty building. “Beautiful as ever.”
She knew the bigger than life comment was in fun, but it always made her blush. The little bit of Irish blood that had been passed down from Fiona Lawford’s grandmother had given Rose and Lily their red hair and easily flushed complexion.
Logan took a long step closer to her and she turned to make quick introductions. The volunteers sized each other up at a glance. Men. Everything was a competition.
“Where shall we get started?” Cole slapped his hands rubbing them together.
Rose pointed to the front. “We set up so that as people arrive they have to pass by the auction items to register then the last night they’ll have plenty of time to wander before they find their tables, or can get drinks.”
“Makes sense.” Cole bobbed his head in synchronization with his buddies.
“Going to set most of these on the tabletops by size so that everyone’s gaze rises to the larger items in the rear.” Rose opened her binder, pulled out one folder spreading out her computerized layout, each table listing items by category size and anticipated value. “I have not had time to label the recent incoming items but anything that matches something on these lists, set it on the appropriate table number and we will sort through as we go.”
Logan whistled. “I freely admit, I was impressed with how orderly you managed to maintain your room with your belongings and the auction items, but this is suitable for a military campaign.”
“Agreed,” Payton said. “Irish, you may have missed your calling. You probably would have made a great general too. Give General Hart a run for his money.”
The room filled with loud rumbling male laughter.
Cole shook his head. “Just don’t let the General hear you say that!”
“That’s all well and good, but let’s do some item moving while we’re doing all this talking,” Rose directed.
“Yes, ma’am.” Payton snapped his spine straight and gave a mock salute before turning and lifting the first box.
“I didn’t upset you, did I?” Logan asked so close to her ear she could feel the warmth of his breath clear to her toes.
Suddenly all coherent thought seemed to slip away. Somehow she managed to shake her head.
“Good.” He smiled on a sigh. “It was meant as a compliment.”
Doing her best to channel the confident smile she’d perfected for business, the one that hid all the little girl insecurities that threatened to rear its ugly head whenever something important was at stake, she leveled her gaze with his. “Anything that compares me to either of my grandparents is always a compliment.”
“So it should be. You, Rose Preston, are one helluva woman.” Still grinning, he turned, lifted the nearest box of donations and walked away as if the deep timber of his voice hadn’t just rocked her world.
Chapter Ten
“The place looks absolutely fantastic.” Logan stood to one side of the door as Rose placed the Hilltop Inn under lock and key.
She slipped the keys into her pocket. “Let’s just hope all the attendees are willing to spend a good chunk of their hard earned and won money.”
“They won’t be able to resist.” His stomach rumbled loudly and for the first time in hours he glanced at his watch. “Wow, I didn’t realize how late it is.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m going to say it again, you really didn’t have to stay all day.”
“It really was my pleasure.” He was proud of himself for managing to spit the words out without sounding like a smitten teen falling all over himself declaring but I really really wanted to. “What are the odds of my talking you into joining me for dinner?”
Her stomach rumbled. Covering it with one hand, she chuckled. “I’d say the odds are pretty good, but my treat. A thank you for all you’ve done today.”
“That should be the other way around. I should be thanking you for saving my vacation.”
“I suppose we could debate this over supper.” Her phone rang and slipping it out of her pocket, she looked down and sucked in a sharp breath. “That is if Lucy doesn’t kill us for missing dinner at Hart house.”
“It is pretty late.”
She nodded and swiped her phone, setting it to speaker. “I was just about to call you.”
“Sure you were. Fortunately for you, Barb told me that y’all were still working hard at the inn. I’m just checking in to see if you want me to send dinner.”
Rose slid into the driver side of the car. “We’re both famished. I think we’ll just stop at the diner. It’s closer.”
“You still planning on sitting out on that mountain to stargaze?”
Technically, watching shooting stars did constitute stargazing, but the annual meteor shower that usually graced this part of the country, right in her own backyard, was way more of a light show than mere gazing at twinkling stars. Something she doubted she’d ever grow tired of. “Absolutely. It’s been too long.”
Lucy chuckled on the other end of the line. “Thought so. I’ll have the Star Watcher’s Snack ready to go.”
“Thanks.” A few more words back and forth before Rose disconnected the call and pulled into Mabel’s diner.
“Star Watcher’s Snack?” he asked.
Shifting the car into park, Rose turned to Logan and didn’t bother holding back a smile. “That would be blanket, a variety of cheese, most likely New York Cheddar and gouda since those are Lucy’s favorites, pepperoni and salami slices—bite size, of course—apple slices and crackers.”
“That’s a snack?”
“For Lucy. Yes.”
“Does it happen to include a bottle of wine?”
Rose shook her head. “Sparkling water. The General doesn’t want anyone either falling asleep on the mountain or driving into a tree in the drunken dark.”
“Got it.” Logan nodded, holding the diner door open for her. “Sparkling water will be perfect.”
“Rose!” Mabel scurried across the floor, skirting past table
s filled with patrons. “This is turning out much better than I’d ever expected. I mean, I knew once registration started tomorrow that there was a chance business would pick up, but we’ve been packed all day already.”
The decision had been made for the first year to limit the contestants to only two hundred fisherman. A small part of her had worried how the small town she loved so much would handle the sudden deluge of people, even for only a few days. According to Mabel, so far so good.
“Good to hear. And thank you so much for the trunk. It’s a wonderful addition.”
“It’s for a good cause. Martha is right. It’s done nothing but gather dust in the attic for ages.” Mabel led the way to the table. “If this is any sign of the next few days, I’m all for doing this every year. Maybe more often. Is it possible to do a tournament twice a year? You know, summer and winter maybe?”
“I don’t know.” Rose shrugged. She knew art, not fish.
Waving at the last booth in the far back of the building, Mabel stepped aside, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I just love the sound of a full diner. This is just fabulous.”
Rose swallowed hard. A few more days would tell if Mabel was right. Even though she was only technically responsible for the auction portion of the fundraiser, her family had been elbow deep in all the details. She had to keep reminding herself that a fundraiser was a fundraiser and it didn’t matter that she didn’t do fish. Still, way down she’d been just a pinch on edge. She didn’t want to let the family down.
“You okay?” Logan leaned over the table, his voice low and throaty and dripping with concern.
She nodded. “Just thinking.”
“That’s a new face.”
“Excuse me?” As far as she knew she’d had the same face for decades.
He chuckled, that soft smile that made his eyes twinkle. “I’ve seen you focused—and for the record you look very cute when your brows crinkle together over the bridge of your nose—I’ve seen you laughing with friends, enjoying family, stressing, relaxing, but this look I don’t recognize.”
Who was this man that in such a short time he knew her well enough to read the nuances of how she felt? “You recognize my looks?”
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