Snow Belle (Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast Book 1)

by Jackie Castle

  “Hear me out.” Karen unwrapped her own burger and daintily folded the paper around her little sandwich. “What if I have ideas as to how you can have what you want? And we don’t have to sell or tear down this house.”

  Taking a bite, Haley stared at the woman. If she started spouting off about the historical value of this place, she’d not be able to guarantee the meal wouldn’t come back up over her fancy fur-lined boots.

  Karen continued, oblivious to the daggers Haley shot with her glare. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Others have been talking about it. Why, at one point, your grandmother even talked about the solution.”

  “Memaw wanted to open a hotel. I don’t know nothing about…”

  “Not just a hotel, dear. A bed and breakfast.”

  “A what?”

  “It’s like a homey type of hotel. More of a cozy inn, or boarding house. Guest stay overnight, and you feed them. Cook meals. And not just one, cause they’ll want breakfast and dinner. And this place is big enough that you can still function as a restaurant.”

  “What’cha mean, Mrs. Black-Borgman?”

  “Just Borgman. I’m dropping Black now that that scoundrel has been gone a year. And call me Karen. Can’t we try to be friends? I know I’ve come off harsh in the past, but you’ve grown on me. I see that Madison determination in you.”

  Haley looked around. “I just cain’t picture what you’re talking about … Karen.”

  Karen turned in her seat. “Picture this. Round tables scattered throughout the garden room. People will love sitting in there, especially when the weather turns nice. Right here can be a sitting area, with comfortable chairs surrounding this lovely fireplace.

  “Now, your kitchen isn’t very large, but I was thinking about that, too. I bet it wouldn’t be hard to expand it into the dining room. You can close off the archway and put in some swinging doors for the kitchen staff to go in and out. And you like to grill so you can set up your smoker, or whatever you use, right in the yard this summer. Or, perhaps we can find a deal on one of those indoor grills.” She motioned toward the open yard out back. “When the weather is nice, add some picnic tables for outdoor dining. Are you picturing it now?” Karen sat back and bit into her burger.

  Haley’s eyes glazed over and she slowly got to her feet. “But all this stuff.”

  “Sell it. All of it. Some of the stuff you have here is very valuable. I checked on those old books kept in the glass cases and, with the right collector, you can get at least a few thousand for the whole lot. I’d suggest making the first story rooms your sleeping quarters and office. And the upstairs will all be for the guests.”

  “But the plumbing. And the paint. I’d need new beds, and… tables. Lots of tables.”

  “Put the pastureland on the market. Haley, nobody would have ever come to that old drafty, dirty barn to eat a meal. Maybe they’d do that in Texas, but not here. It’s too cold. Here you can serve people in the winter and summer. All year long.”

  “You think that property will sell?”

  “Let’s get Mr. Dobson on it. I’ve been talking to him. He said someone who wants to start a cottage business might be interested, or a small farmer. Not everyone who moves will want to live in town. And, you can apply for one of Mr. Lubo grants. I’ll help you fill out the paperwork.”

  “Why?” Haley turned back to face her, her mind spinning with the possibilities. Yes, she’d considered the idea in passing, but had never let it take hold. All along she’d been convinced the house needed to go. This way, however, she’d still have a home. She could petition the court to let her have Lex as soon as she got things going.

  Karen nibbled at her burger, then folded it back into the paper wrapping and set it on the small table. “I know what it’s like to struggle to survive when you have nobody but yourself to depend on. The people in this town helped me after Mr. Black passed away. Now I want to help you. It’s what this town is really about. You know? It’s why your grandparents and great-grands held the Holiday Hoopaloozas. To help the community. The money they raised always went into a fund to help those who were down on their luck during the Depression and War eras.”

  “I’ve only been thinking of helping my sister get out of the foster system. She’s a mess and needs a stable home.”

  “Well, that’s a start, isn’t it? And isn’t that enough reason to put aside your pride and do whatever it takes to make that happen?”

  “But running a hotel…I’m just… I know cooking. I’m not sure…”

  “We’ll help you, Haley, if you’ll let us.” Karen looked dead serious.

  Haley blew out a long, steadying breath. Ethan’s little sermon on needing others dogged at her consciousness. Yes, she would let them help.

  Time to set things straight and get her life in order. Time to get out of this pit of loss. Loss of her dream. Loss of that barn. Mostly, loss of Ethan Winters. She had a chance to try reviving her dream of making a sustainable business for herself.

  But Ethan….

  * * * *

  As Christmas grew closer, Ethan found himself missing his snowbelle more and more. Not that he could call her his now. He’d gotten a strange email that evening, saying the Madison house was no longer on the market. However, Mr. Dobson gave him listings of three other places that might suit his purposes. His plan was actually two-fold. The first phase was to bring in some cash while he incorporated phase two of his plan.

  The buildings were close to the river, but not sufficient for the second phase. So why had the house gone off the market? Had Haley sold out to the Lucky Dollar people? Surely the town officials wouldn’t have allowed it, and they had the final say.

  Even though it was well past midnight, he climbed out of bed and opened his laptop. He typed in the Madison Creek news page, having memorized link by now. He knew his obsession for checking for any news about Haley was bordering on mental, but … well, he couldn’t help himself.

  They had a bit of snow today. He hadn’t seen anything about the Madison house sale, but this was strange: On the classified page was a large ad about there being an estate sale, and the address was for the Madison house. Why would she be selling off her stuff? Maybe she had sold the house and needed to get rid of everything. But Dobson hadn’t said he’d been outbid, only that the house had gone off the market.

  Ethan sat back in the chair and tapped the desk with his finger.

  “Are you still up, hon?” Mom peeked in. “I saw a light under your door. Am I interrupting anything?”

  “No. Just couldn’t sleep. I was checking out a few things. Looks like the house isn’t available anymore, but I can’t find out why.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Doubt she wants to talk to me.”

  “Won’t know unless you try. Least you can do is send a text. You know, a friendly gesture.”

  “Maybe I’ll try later, in the morning. Too late now. And I’m calling Mr. Dobson, too.”

  She came to stand behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Good idea. Are those pictures of the town?”

  He moved to click the banner. “Some older ones. They have some newer stuff, too.” He clicked through pictures of parades, and Mallory’s Diner. Then there was a picture of Mrs. Blake-Borgman with some of the other council members, including Lubo Hechinger.

  He was slowly gathering the money needed to finance his endeavor. Or at least get it started. Mr. Hechinger was willing to give him a small grant to help fund the second part of his plan, but he still needed a place by the river; somewhere roomy, preferably, with good access to an Internet connection, and not too difficult to get to.

  He perused the sales page again and found something new listed.

  “Son, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about your endeavor. I want to help.”

  “Mom, no. I promised Dad I’d not ask for any more money. And I’m firm on that.”

  “Not loan. I want to invest. Like in a partnership.”

  His finger froze
over the mouse before clicking on the ad for several acres of open pasture land. He wanted to see where it was located. Instead, he looked up at his mother.

  “I’m serious.” She pulled a camp chair over to sit, facing him. “And I have the money to do it.”

  “Where?”

  She folded her arms. “My Great-Aunt Sally left me some things in her will. Two things, actually. A collection of old, rare coins. And the most awful camper you’ve ever seen. She had a thing for pink flamingos. Anyway, she traveled all over in that thing before she died of a heart attack. In her will, I was given her coin collection because I used to enjoy polishing them for her. They were pretty to a little girl like me. And there were a lot of them. Several turned out to be quite rare and very valuable.

  “So I sold them off and have been sitting on the money. It’s mine. Your father said for me to keep it for myself. I’ve been thinking of investing it in bonds.”

  “And you should. I’m not taking your money.”

  “I’d like to invest in something meaningful, something that will help someone besides a bank. And, well, I’m wondering if you’d consider me as a silent partner who would have visiting rights.”

  He clicked on the ad and was taken to a map. Beside the map were a few pictures of the land: Familiar pictures, except for a barn that had suffered a fire. His breath caught as he sat forward, his eyes scanning the information in the listing. Was Haley all right?

  “What do you say, son?”

  She couldn’t be serious. And he couldn’t seriously consider her offer. Though, in the long run, this might provide a way to pay his parents back… if things actually worked out the way he hoped.

  “How much do you have to invest?”

  She looked at the computer and pointed at the asking price. “I could pay for that. Twice.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Okay, Haley, dear,” Auntie Daisy went over the items covering one of the tables again. “Everything that’s going is labeled with a price tag. Everything that’s worth keeping is in the back bedroom, which is locked so people won’t wander in.”

  “How can I thank you, Auntie?” Haley hugged the elderly woman.

  “It’s the least I can do for my sister’s granddaughter. I was overseas when Emma took sick. Didn’t get back till nearly too late. I’m so happy you’ve decided to keep the house. I’d hoped you would but didn’t want to interfere, dear. You understand. Everyone has their own choices to make.”

  Haley bent to kiss her cheek. “Love you, Auntie. I’m so glad to have you around. I’ve missed having family, and you’re filling that hole.”

  Aunt Daisy gave her a watery smile. “Where’s that nice violin-playing boy?”

  “He went off to play his violin. He’ll be famous someday.”

  “Hmm, I was sure he’d decided to take love over fame. Guess I’m losing my touch. I’m generally very perceptive about people.” She patted Haley’s hands. “You’d best get on outside and see if we’ve missed anything.” She dumped some posters into her arms. “Tack them up. We’ve printed the rules about bargaining and purchasing. Make sure they’re posted where people are sure to find them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Soon people did begin to file in, and stuff began to filter out. Karen, Aunt Daisy, and Mayor Grimes were the main hagglers, since they had a better grasps on the history and value of the items being sold.

  All Haley had to do was answer questions and help Daisy take money. Outside, kids were running around the yard, making sleds out of bits of cardboard or building snowmen. From the now sparkling garden room windows, she saw several men engaged in a game of horseshoes they’d found in Papop’s garage. She had to laugh when they had to go digging in the snow drifts for rogue shoes. Molly and Cress were tied up outside the garage. She’d need to find better shelter for the horses soon. She’d sold some of the garage equipment she didn’t need, but didn’t have the heart to sell off the snowmobiles.

  Maybe the Lord wasn’t so all-fired mad at her after all. Maybe, like those stubborn Texas steers, she’d just needed to be corralled in the right direction. In the quiet hours of the night, when her mind fussed over making her dreams a reality, and her heart yearned for the Yank, she calmed both by reading the old stories again from Memaw’s big white Bible. The words and stories helped her not feel so alone.

  Haley glanced out the big bay window, past the twinkling tree Ethan had put up for her. Mr. Dobson said there’d been a few nibbles on the property across the road. She hoped whoever ended up buying it would be good neighbors. How odd to walk out her front door and know she no longer owned the land all the way down to the river. Still, she had plenty left to work with.

  “Welcome, Lubo,” Karen greeted.

  Haley snapped out of her reveries. Greeting was her job. This was no time to take a siesta. “Mr. Hechinger, sir, what can I interest you in?” Haley swept her arm sideways to show all the goods offered and found most had been picked over. So fast!

  “Oh, I’m not here to purchase anything. I wished to have a word with you, Miss Madison.” He gave her a polite nod. “If you’re not too busy.”

  “No, sir. Would you like to go into the kitchen to talk? It’s a no-sale zone.”

  “I would love a tour of the home. It’s been years since I’ve been here. Would you do me the honor, young lady?”

  She glanced at Karen, who offered a wave of encouragement.

  “Sure thing. Let’s go this way and circle around.” She led him into the kitchen, explaining her ideas for expanding and eventually ordering updated ovens. Then they moved into the main room and up the stairs that no longer squeaked, thanks to Ethan. “Guests will stay up here. There’re eight rooms if we include the study, plus up here in the crow’s nest, I can set up another place for people to sleep.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard about the crow’s nest. That is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  She halted halfway up the winding stairs. “Really?” Realizing he might actually want to see the space, she hurried on.

  “I have a proposition for you, Miss Madison. I’ve looked over your application for a grant, and have decided to purchase all the furniture you’ll need to furnish the whole house, including the dining tables.”

  Haley almost choked, and it wasn’t from the floating dust particles. “No joshing?”

  “No joshing,” he chuckled. “However, I do have one stipulation.”

  She leaned against the large circular window. “Sir?”

  “I’d like you to offer this room for free.”

  “Sir?” She wasn’t totally against the idea but needed to know his reasoning. “Why this one?”

  “Here’s what I’m thinking. There will be folks coming into town to explore the possibility of setting up a business. I was hoping to offer, as part of our incentive plan, free room and board for three days. That should give people enough time to see the town and decide if they’d like to stay.”

  “So you want me to save the crow’s nest for prospective business owners?” She looked around and saw no problem with meeting his request. He was, after all, footing the bill for the new furniture. That gesture alone would save her thousands. “I like your idea, Mr. Hechinger.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that.” He clapped his hands, bouncing on his feet. “Send me your business email address and I’ll put a link to your bed and breakfast on the town’s website. The crow’s nest offer will be in the section for those who are serious about moving here. I don’t wish for you to worry about freeloaders trying to take advantage of your hospitality. But I’ll leave the scheduling and final decision on who can stay up to you.”

  “Wow, that’s great. And I can’t thank you enough for the grant, sir. That will help me so much. Then I can use the money I’m earning today to fix the plumbing and some other things.”

  He shook her hand. “Well, we have a deal then. I appreciate your willingness to work with us, young lady. And I’m looking forward to what you have to offer our town.
I’ve heard your smoked turkey is to die for.”

  “Oh, Mr. Hechinger, that’s nothing. I can make the most tender fajitas and brisket. They’ll make your Yankee tongue just curl up and cheer.”

  He laughed out loud, clasping her hand in his. “I’m looking forward to that. We need you to bring a bit of spice and flavor to our town, young lady.”

  When they returned downstairs, Karen and Mr. Alton were wrangling over some boxes filled with old books. Haley couldn’t figure out for the life of her why they’d be so all-fire mad over a bunch of dusty tomes that had yellow pages and faded titles anyway. Certainly couldn’t be more interesting reading than the paperbacks with busty women she sometimes picked up at the Wallymart.

  Karen folded her thin arms across her chest. “You look here, Mr. Alton, I’ve already checked a few of my sources and these are genuine first editions. You can’t tell me you’ll not make quite a profit if I sell them for that pithy amount. We’ll not take less than $8000 for the treasure in this box. That’s my final deal.”

  Mr. Hechinger entered the library and peered into the box. “Oh, my, are those really….?”

  “Indeed they are.” Karen’s nose tilted into the air.

  He lifted a gray book titled Huckle-something. His fingers covered the rest of the title.

  Aunt Daisy stood by the cash register she’d brought from her shop, a big smile on her crinkled face. “Poor Mr. Alton has met his match, I’m afraid,” she sighed as Haley went to stand beside her, eager to tell her aunt about the deal she’d just made.

  Mr. Hechinger pulled out his wallet. “What are you asking for the lot? These would look wonderful in my library. I’ll put them in my special collection cases. And they’ll only grow in value.”

  “Now, just hold on. I have first dibs, Lubo.” Mr. Alton shook his bent finger in the philanthropist’s face. “I’m willing to pay your price, Karen. It is for family.”

  “Yes,” nodded Mr. Hechinger, “family who has to part with these treasures in order to build a life for herself. I might just have to—”