Snow Belle (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 1)

by Jackie Castle

  Karen wiped a cloth over her lenses, and concluded, “Which is why we cannot allow you to let the house be demolished, Haley.” She leaned forward. “We’re asking you to work with us here. Help us by letting us help you. I’m sure if you’ll see reason, we can still find a way for you to have your barbecue business, such as it is, while we maintain the integrity of our town.”

  Haley was at a loss for words. Momma always warned her to not let others invade her business. She’d always lamented over how small-town folks were always up in each other’s affairs and interfering where they didn’t belong. Maddix often agreed with her, but he was always so drunk he didn’t know top from bottom.

  “Miss Madison?” Karen’s questioning tone broke into her thoughts. “Are you still with me, dear? I know this is a lot to take in.”

  Haley glared. Why’d Karen have to be such a snit? She seemed nice sometimes, but then she’d come along with her condescending attitude and ruin any happy thoughts Haley might have about her. “I understand everything y’all have said. You’ll help me start a business, so long as it’s approved by you. But how exactly will you know what will work and what won’t? Sometimes you just have to step out and take a chance, you know?”

  A smile tilted the side of Mr. Hechinger’s mouth. “Indeed, Miss Madison. There is always a bit of risk in such ventures. However, we have limited funds, and hope to get the most punch we can out of it.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Your grandfather, Charles, was a good friend of my father. They often helped each other out of tough spots from time to time. Because of that long-standing connection between our families, I had hoped to be able to help you save the house, along with as much land as possible. I’ve grown up watching parts of this town being sold off piecemeal.”

  Haley nodded her understanding. She didn’t recall ever meeting Mr. Lubo, but she’d gone with Papop to the lumberyard a time or two. Her grandfather had been friends with everyone in town, it seemed to her.

  “Miss Madison,” he went on, “think about what you’ve heard today and if you’d like to get on board with us. During the next week, while you’re thinking, I want you to write up a solid business plan. If you need help, let Karen, or myself, know and we’ll connect you to someone qualified to advise you. We meet again in two weeks. Return at that time with your plan, and intentions to sit and work with us. Do you think you’re interested in doing that?”

  “Sure, Mr. Hechinger. I’ll think about it, at least.”

  “Good girl. I hope to see you back here in two weeks. We all loved and cared about the Madisons. We’re family, young lady. I hope you believe that.”

  Family? Really? A sharp pang pierced her chest. She’d not had any semblance of a family in nearly five years. Not since Maddix ripped them all to shreds with his accident. She swallowed down the growing lump, gave a nod to the other members, and rushed out of the room, forgetting, for the moment, that Ethan had come along with her.

  When she turned around to go back, he was there. Grasping her shoulders, he stared deeply into her eyes. “I’m betting your thoughts are churning like one of those tornadoes you have in Texas. Am I correct?”

  She nodded.

  “My suggestion to you is to go home and really think about what they said. Don’t worry about fixing me dinner. Mallory promised to feed me tonight if I’ll come play the violin for an hour. She has Live Music Mondays. A kind of talent night. Go home, Haley. Think and pray. If you want to talk later, text me. Okay?”

  She nodded again. He gave her shoulders one last squeeze. “I have one more tune-up to do. My parts should be in tomorrow and we can start work on my car. I’ll catch up to you later.”

  Haley walked out to her truck, dazed and confused. They’d help her on their terms. What if their terms required something she couldn’t do? She only knew cooking and tending livestock. Even the gardening was a bit out of her expertise, but she’d planned to muddle her way through as she normally did.

  What would Papop want? She knew what he’d want. Deep down he’d want her to keep the house. But he’d said before passing that he knew she’d make something good out of the wreck he was leaving behind. He and Memaw were the only people who always seemed to have confidence in her, a sense that she’d make something wonderful out of her life.

  But what did that look like? Haley just didn’t know anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ethan set down his Willhelm, ending the last song of the night. The crowd applauded politely as he made his way off the little stage at the back of the restaurant. After putting his violin into its case, he headed over to the counter where Mallory had a tall glass of tea waiting for him. He didn’t really need the caffeine this late at night but didn’t want to insult her.

  Mallory might be a sweet girl, but she was also a conniving one. He suspected her invitation for a free dinner in exchange for playing was an excuse to get him alone. Thankfully, she hadn’t made any passes or suggest anything other than friendship at the moment. Ethan wondered if she simply wanted someone to bounce her ideas off of on remodeling her diner.

  “It’s so old that I can call it retro now. I want something new but … I don’t know. You’ve been around. I was wondering if you might have places that stand out in your mind. Maybe seen something that struck your fancy.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her long legs as she waved toward the counter area. “I definitely want to get rid of that, and set up a bar. I’ve applied for a liquor license. I’m thinking rustic, maybe.” She sighed and propped her chin on her fist. “But I don’t know. I’m not a rustic kind of girl, but rather shabby-chic in my tastes, you know?”

  She’d served him a large bowl of beef stew, which warmed his chilled body after working in that drafty garage all day to pay for the extra parts Bill decided needed to be replaced.

  Ethan thanked the Lord for providing him an opportunity to pay for the added expenses. Ever since he’d sat through the council meeting, he’d wanted to hold on to the money his banker transferred into his account. The wheels in his head hadn’t stopped turning. They wanted to save this town. Revive it. Something sent a thrill though his spirit at the idea.

  “I’ve been building my bank accounts for some time,” Mallory said. “I’m sure, being a visitor, I’m boring you with my rambling, but earlier today I attended a small business owners’ meeting and I’m just bubbling with excitement over what I heard.”

  “Actually, I am interested.” He didn’t think he should tell anyone about the private council meeting held with Haley, but that wasn’t the only place he’d heard of talk about the renovations. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

  Dare he say that he’d been considering ways he could stay here? He couldn’t very well rush into such a decision. And he’d need to return home and talk to his family about it. Dad wanted him to settle down. Ethan hoped to pay them back one day. Mom had said that if he provided her with at least five grandchildren, she’d be happy with that.

  Maybe he’d better seek some kind of stable employment. Five! What was she thinking?

  “So you know about the facelift Main Street is getting?” Mallory leaned forward on her elbows, her red spiked heels dangling from her toes. They matched her lipstick. Did she do that on purpose?

  Ethan shrugged. “I’ve heard a few rumors.” He looked around the little diner. “I think you should stick with the style that makes you most comfortable. And really think about that bar. Is that the kind of crowd you want to attract? I mean, there’s a couple of pubs on the next street over. This is a nice family-friendly place to come eat. You’ll be inviting in a different crowd, don’t you think?”

  From the look on her face, Ethan didn’t think she’d considered that possibility.

  While he finished his drink, Mallory cleaned up as the last of the diners filed out. Should he call Haley? He hated to wake her if she’d already went to sleep. He didn’t mind the walk, but wished now he’d brought his down jacket instead of the dress one.

  After setting the
last load of dishes to wash, she took the seat next to his and he was suddenly aware they were the only ones left in the building. “Sure appreciate you playing. You can even make the old boring holiday songs beautiful. I nearly cried when you played “Silent Night”.”

  “Thank you. I love taking old songs and giving them a fresh twist.” He pulled out his phone, considering once again if he should call or suck it up and walk fast.

  “Can I interest you in something a little stronger than that tea?” She pointed upward. “I live right above the diner.”

  “Thanks, but no. I’m not a drinking man, anymore. And I probably need to get on home.” He stood and slipped into his coat. Three miles wasn’t that far.

  “Give me a sec and I’ll drive you out to where you’re staying.” A look of disappointment crossed her face and tinged her tone.

  He gave a nod and a silent prayer that this wouldn’t get him into an even more uncomfortable situation. He didn’t want to be rude to Mallory. She really was a sharp girl and fun to talk with. But he’d been trying hard to guard his heart, and if he did let it loose he was sure it would fly straight into the hands of that wily Snowbelle.

  Though he wasn’t so sure she’d be willing to catch it.

  All the way out to the Madison house, Mallory continued her talk about renovating. “I think you’re right about the bar. I do want to keep things family-friendly. Maybe there might be a happy medium. I’ve been looking online at different restaurant styles. I cook home-style food, so maybe I need to go with something that offers a homey feel. Mrs. Alton has these old sampler pieces she’d sell for a discounted price.”

  Ethan sat back in the bucket seat of her sports car and watched the rows of houses disappear into snowy fields until they rounded a bend and the Victorian towered over the road up on its little hill.

  “I’m going to hate it if Haley lets that house be torn down.”

  “It is something. I’ve been looking at some of the old photos lining the wall; those she hasn’t taken down and packed up yet. I found some really old black and white ones with large groups of people standing in front of the barn. Lights hung from the trees. Looked very festive.”

  Mallory parked on the edge of the long driveway. “Is she really going to turn that barn into a restaurant? I hope she’ll clear out the years of dung that must have piled up in there.”

  A laugh burst out of Ethan. “I’m sure she will.” He’d have to make sure he mentioned that, now that Mallory had put that thought into his head. Far as he knew, she planned to just throw up some long tables and benches and cover them with rolls of butcher paper like they did back home.

  He hoped she’d really think hard about the proposal the council offered her. She needed help and he couldn’t figure out why she was being so bullish about accepting it.

  “I remember Emma and Charles Madison. I was in middle school when Mrs. Emma passed away. Then Mr. Charles took ill next but didn’t like to talk much about it. Eventually, he shut himself up here. Mrs. Alton, his sister-in-law, said he refused to go to the hospital.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat.

  Ethan wondered if he was being rude about not inviting her in, but didn’t want to send the wrong signal. He grasped the door handle, readying to get out until she kept talking.

  “Sure wish,” she went on, with wistfulness in her tone, “that someone would come along who’d love that old house.” She shook her head. “That silly Southern girl. Don’t get me wrong. I like Haley as much as she’ll let anyone like her. I just wish she’d let us know what’s going on in that mind of hers. Even if she might be a bit of competition, I’d like to help her. But—”

  He pulled his hand back onto his lap, understanding what she meant. Haley had built some kind of iron wall around herself. She wanted to be the fixer but refused to let people help her in return.

  Mallory stared off toward the barn, a large dark shadow in the distance. “I bet that picture you found was from the big holiday parties they used to throw out here. My grandma said they used to be the highlight of the Christmas season. Everyone was involved. In town, there’d be a carnival with rides. And people would sell crafts, and the farmers brought in goods from their harvests. And some, who had a ticket, which could be pricey to purchase, could take a ride out to the Madison farm. Every year the Madisons held what they called the Holiday Hoopalooza. It was a big fundraiser for the town back in the war days. After that, it slowly grew smaller and smaller as money got tighter, and people started to leave here for work in other places.”

  “A Holiday Hoopalooza? That does sound like fun.”

  “Grammy says it was a real blast. Sleigh rides, games, dancing in the barn, and lots of warm drinks and food. And, yes, she used that word,” Mallory chuckled. “I’d love to see this town start having holiday celebrations again, you know? We have a little tree- lighting ceremony. That’s going on this next weekend. Mayor Grimes plans to get up and talk about the council’s plans for renovation and see if he can drum up some interest. I’ll be selling pies to raise money. A few others are coming up with ways to do some fundraisers, too.”

  Ethan looked up at the house, and in his mind he saw how nice it would look decked out in lights, with a tree standing in the bay window. His mind started churning. Would Haley approve? Probably not. But what if he did the work himself and surprised her? She needed a chance to share her dream with the townsfolk.

  “I better get inside. Thanks so much, Mallory, for the ride and dinner.”

  “No, it was my pleasure.” She blew him a playful kiss and waved. “If you’re still around this weekend, be sure to stop in for some pie.”

  “I doubt the car will be fixed by then, so I’ll probably still…” he opened the door, letting a blast of cold in. “I’ll still be here.” He quickly got out and closed the door. The longer he stayed in Madison Creek, the harder he was finding it to think of leaving. But was this what he really wanted?

  No, he’d wanted to win that national talent show. Maybe get a record contract. Stephen had kept saying if they didn’t make tryouts, he wanted to try putting out some songs independently. They’d put together a couple of videos of contemporary pop music set to a dramatic performance. Bekka loved making costumes for her role-playing drama group in high school. They’d had such fun.

  He needed to talk to Stephen, who’d finally stopped calling and leaving messages. No explanations, just pleas for him to call. New York still hadn’t responded. Yet, working his way up in an orchestra wasn’t something he was thrilled about doing if he was honest with himself.

  When he entered the warm house, he set his violin on the edge of the couch in the living area. He thought he’d miss sunny California, except the smog and traffic turned him off of city living. No, it wasn’t for him. He did, however, like playing at Mallory’s Diner. Tonight had been more enjoyable than he thought it would be. He was simply able to play for the pure pleasure of it. And a bowl of soup.

  He leaned his arm against the bay window and stared out at the white-covered trees. “Lord, I’m sorry I never asked in the beginning what Your dreams for me were. I’m listening now. Should I return home, face the shame of failure, because that’s what it feels like I’d be doing.” Something caught in his throat and he coughed to clear it, but the tightness in his chest only increased. His breath fogged the window until he couldn’t see out anymore. Moving on toward his room, he tucked the case under his arm. He wasn’t tired. He’d not sleep tonight, not with so many thoughts running rampant through his head.

  “Lord? I need to know what to do.” He stopped at the pictures lining the stairway and found one with two young couples. A slip of paper tucked into the bottom read, ‘Holiday Hoopalooza ’48: Emma, Chuck, Mama and Uncle Bart’.

  Hadn’t he seen a box up in the attic labeled ‘Holiday stuff’? He dropped his things off in his room, then rushed up to the crow’s nest. On a clear day, he’d been able to see Lake Michigan easily from the circular windows. Several small boxes and trunks cluttered
the attic room. Haley said she used to stay up here with her cousins? He bet they’d had a lot of fun, feeling like they were on top of the world.

  He rummaged through the boxes, knowing he was probably breaking several rules of propriety. She needed a bit of holiday cheer. When they’d left the council, she’d looked so confused and out of sorts.

  Oh, fantastic, a tree!

  “Lord, I hope Haley sought out Your help today. I pray You show her the best action to take in all this. If You’re interested in my opinion, I also hate the idea of someone tearing down this old house.”

  Could he buy it? Dad would blow his lid if Ethan suggested it. To buy an old broken-down house… he’d never agree. And Ethan simply couldn’t do it on his own; not unless he cashed in every last dime he had saved. Even then he was sure he’d come up short.

  “There it is. Yes!” He piled two boxes labeled ‘Decorations’ on top of the tree box.

  For the next few hours, Ethan hung garland and decorated the tree. He found a box of lights and went outside to hang them on the porch and upstairs balconies, glad to find they still worked. A few even decorated his little room.

  By time the sun colored the sky, Ethan sat back and admired his work. A wreath hung on the front door. The fake tree glittered with twinkling lights. He’d found a nativity set, which he placed on the mantle over the fireplace where a fire now burned.

  Was it enough to draw a few people out? He looked around at the stacks of old magazines and other clutter. After a rest, he’d clear at least the living room and kitchen. Perhaps the offer of mulled cider and music? Caroling? Would Haley consider hitching her horses up for carriage rides? Would she want to take any part in his idea?

  He probably should have talked to her before decorating, but he’d had so much fun doing it.