Chapter XXIII
Allie signed her name in the designated space and handed the final page of the agreement to the lawyer. He began organizing the mound of paperwork into three neat folders.
She smiled at the new owners, who she knew were anxious to finally be able to begin building on the land. She was genuinely happy for them, and had seen immediately that they were the right fit. A couple in their forties, they planned on building their dream home where the inn once stood. They all stood, and shook hands, the new owners hugging her as well.
As Allie drove back to her apartment, she thought about Connor, who was a constant presence in her heart and mind. She looked forward to calling him when she got home, filling him in on the details of the sale. Thankfully, his nightmares were less frequent, and his walking had improved quite a bit, which greatly lifted his spirits. It had been two weeks since she visited him in Maryland...and now, the physical ache for him never left her. Smiling to herself, she recalled how, while she was there, he'd kept his promise...and they never left the apartment for the three days she was there.
Allie hurried up the stairs to her apartment, anxious to hear his voice, if only over the phone. She threw her jacket on the sofa, and dialed his number.
"Hello there." She could listen to his deep, warm voice forever, and she sighed, longing to see his face, his eyes.
"Connor, I've just come back from the lawyer's, and it's all done. It's their's now." She settled into the couch, tucking her feet under her, and pulling one of Ben's afghans, his sweet gift to her, over her legs.
"How do you feel now that it's not yours anymore?" His voice was full of concern. Whenever she had mentioned to him the possibility of selling The Colborne Inn's land, he had refused to give her any opinion or advice, telling her it was entirely her decision.
She took a deep breath and leaned back on the cushion. "You know, Connor, I feel like a giant weight has just been lifted off my shoulders." She rested her head on the back of the sofa. "I loved running the inn, and all the organizing and, well, just everything that went with it, but I feel free now. It was definitely the right decision to sell. I can start another business, if I want to."
"Mmm...m." By his tone, she knew they were both remembering the first time he had come to the inn. That part was bittersweet, she knew. "Well, I have some news to tell you." His voice was serious.
She listened intently as he recounted the call he had gotten that morning from the Treasury Department.
"So, the gist of it is...my partner got killed, and I got a promotion. Whoever says life is fair is..."
"Connor, it was not your fault he died." Allie interrupted him softly. "You were shot too," she continued calmly. "It could just as easily have been you who died instead of your partner, or both of you, for that matter. Life isn't fair, I agree. But you deserve the promotion for how you handled the counterfeiting ring, not because you survived. You deserve that promotion," she repeated firmly.
"I wish you were here." His voice was low. "I start in a month, after my leave is up. It's an administrative position - desk job - perfect for me now, right?" His tone was sarcastic, then, he amended quickly. "Allie, I'm sorry. You've been through so much. Please forgive me for being so thoughtless."
"You need to think this through." Allie longed to be there with him. "This may be the right time for you to change course, you know, just like letting go of the inn was the right choice for me."
Another deep "Mmm..m..."
"I'm going over to Tilda and Ben's tomorrow for dinner," she laughed softly. "They are just too cute together. But before that, I'm going back to the inn...or land, rather, one last time tomorrow afternoon." Allie rubbed her arm, and pulled the afghan up higher. "The new owners want to show me their plans."
Allie reluctantly hung up the phone after a few minutes more of conversation. The silence always startled her after she had listened to his voice for awhile. She grabbed her notebook from the side table, and started a new list - business ideas that related to what she enjoyed most. As she wrote, her mind drifted to Connor so often, that she laid the notebook down, leaned back on the sofa and let her mind linger on every moment they'd shared together.
The Village of Gerard's Cliff Page 26