Christmas Inn Love
Page 4
“Follow me.” He led her to the back of the house which faced the wooded acres he owned. The wall of windows, which strayed from the Victorian design, looked out onto the wild land beyond.
“I hope you forgive the creative license to stray from classic design, but the land is beautiful to look at. I couldn’t cover it up. Plus, this view will help me sell it to investors.”
He regretted that comment instantly as he watched her shoulders stiffen and her expression sour.
He quickly changed the subject. “Look at that.” He pointed to Jackson and the dog in total sync pitching and retrieving the ball.
“He loves that dog,” she said with a note of sadness.
“I like him too, but if Jackson would rather keep him, I’d be happy to let him have him.” He guided her into the kitchen where he filled a teapot with water and placed it on the stovetop.
“I can’t have a dog in the inn.”
He studied her.
“Lot of upkeep,” he said sympathetically. “More work. I got you. Jackson’s welcome to play here anytime with Lucky.” He pointed to her son. “That right there is a thing of beauty.”
“It’s nice to see him happy.”
“And Jackson too,” joked Rob. “Lucky is nice and all, but I don’t do for him what your son does.” The teapot let out a whistle. “Let’s have that tea.”
He walked her to the table. “I met a friend of yours,” he said. “Pinetop Hardware? The manager?”
“Scott?” she asked. “Sure. He’s a friend. He’s helping us with the materials for our festival and parade.”
“Ah,” he said. “He’s helping me with a fence. I’ll put up a small fence to keep Lucky in. Kind of weird to put something permanent around a house built to move. I wanted to make the fence higher, but looking out, I see that would have been foolish. The view is more incredible than I realized.”
Her smile was tight. “Not for long.”
He set out two cups. “Does Jackson like tea?” He thought about getting a third cup.
“Jackson is not a fan of tea or coffee. He tried his hand at drinking coffee once on an empty stomach and decided adult beverages weren’t his thing,” she said with a laugh.
“He’s sixteen?”
“Yep. Hard to believe.”
He did the math and his eyes grew wide. “You were pregnant in—”
“High school,” she finished. “I went half days during my senior year.”
That bit of information shocked Rob. He tried not to show his surprise. The math had been at the back of his mind when he’d learned she was Jackson’s mom.
“I’ll say it again. He’s a nice kid. You’ve done a great job.” He set out a box of mixed tea bags and handed her a cup of hot water.
She chose the peach and dunked her tea bag aggressively.
Jackson burst through the front door with Lucky panting hard right behind him.
“Would you like to join us for tea?” Rob hoped he’d say yes, so they would stay longer. He was afraid he had brought up a subject that caused her pain and judging by the look on her face, he had.
“No, but thanks.” The boy brushed the air with his hand. “Not much of a tea drinker.”
“I have soda.” Rob went to the refrigerator and pulled out a six-pack of root beer. “My friend made these.” He uncapped a bottle and handed it over.
“Looks like a real beer.” Jackson grinned as he took a sip.
“Hey,” scolded Celia. “No beer for you.”
“Just joking, Mom.”
Rob reached to the top of the fridge to get Lucky a treat.
“There,” he said. “Now we’re all good.”
Celia took a couple polite sips, but it was clear she was ready to leave. A thick gust of wind swept against the house, carrying with it thick clouds. Jackson moved to the glass to watch the storm move in.
“Oh,” he said excitedly. “Snow. I can totally feel it in the air.”
That was one thing a Coloradan knew, thought Rob—when it would snow. His mother always got a headache the day before a storm. The older folks complained about their bones creaking, but somehow everyone always knew when bad weather was on its way.
“Don’t say that.” Celia groaned. “Not yet anyway. I’m not ready for the winter.”
“Were they calling for snow?” Rob pulled his tea bag from his cup and added cream and sugar. “Seems out of the blue.”
“This is an unexpected storm.” Her tone contained a hint of dread. “Albuquerque low which means lots of wet snow.”
“Cheer up. This is good. This is what we need. A few customers who come and get snowbound,” Jackson said with a laugh.
“Yeah, but then I’d have to feed them without notice. They would complain it wasn’t their fault it snowed.”
“It’s not yours either, Mom. You think everything is your fault, and it’s not,” Jackson said.
Out of the mouths of babes, thought Rob.
“Thanks for outing me.” She rolled her eyes at her son.
“I’ll be right back.” Rob dashed to his desk and wrote Jackson a check.
“Here you go,” he said. “This is for today. I’m putting up a fence if you want to lend a hand with that and earn some extra cash. I don’t know if you’re handy or not, but the offer is there if your mother says it’s okay.” The kid needed a truck repair and his mother was not the type to accept handouts, so Rob figured good honest work would do the trick.
“I don’t know how to work with tools,” Jackson admitted.
“Here’s your chance to learn.” He stared out the window “Open invitation. I invited your mother to look over the plans I have for the land outside. I’m putting in a resort. There will be lots of opportunities heading your way.”
“Cool,” said Jackson. “Yeah, maybe.”
Rob could tell he was ready to leave. “I’ll walk you two out. Take the bottle with you if you haven’t finished.”
Jackson walked ahead.
Celia grabbed Rob’s arm firmly.
He looked to her hand clutching his forearm and then glanced at her.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“What?” He was genuinely at a loss.
“You told him about the development.”
“I’m not sure what the problem is,” he said.
“You’ll never get it.”
“What is it, exactly?” He’d been sympathetic to her, but he would not let her off the hook.
“Never mind,” she said.
“No,” he insisted, but Jackson stepped back into the house.
“Mom, are you coming?”
“Yep, I’ll be right there.” She stopped and looked at him. “Thanks for the tea.” She dashed off toward her son.
Rob didn’t understand Celia at all. Didn’t understand how he could remember the girl who did nothing to help him back then and yet wanted to help her now. What was it about her that pulled at his heart?
Chapter Five
Celia
On the ride home, the first snowflake hit the windshield. Celia sat wondering why it was him that twisted her up so much. She hadn’t felt this upset since those days after her ex-husband had walked out the door and disappeared.
“Are you okay with coming over and taking care of the dog?” she asked Jackson.
“Yeah, Lucky’s great.”
“And you don’t think it’s a little over the top for him to pay you so much for each visit?”
He gave her a quick glance before his eyes went back to the road. “What’s your point?”
Her son was direct. Even if he weren’t a teenager, Celia was sure he’d have no filter. She would never say so, but his father had been that way, and it often worried her that nature would overrule nurture. She wasn’t the kind of parent to punish her son for his father’s sins.
“Just wondered if he heard something … I don’t know … like we’re charity.” She looked out the window at the blanket of snow falling from the sky.
 
; “You think he feels sorry for us? Maybe someone told him about Dad?” He turned on to their street.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I mean, he knew that I owned the inn before he stopped by to let me know he would ruin all that land of his.”
“Developing it doesn’t mean he’s ruining it, Mom. It means he’s using it.” Jackson lifted his shoulders. “I like the idea of learning how to use tools. I thought I lost the chance to do that when Dad left.”
Celia knew the day would come when Jackson would feel the emptiness from not having a father figure. When he’d gotten the job at Pinetop Grocer, it thrilled her. There were so many square peg men there that would be a good influence on him. She would never get remarried just to give Jackson a new dad, but their conversation made her look inward to her needs and his.
It had been many years. Celia’s way of dealing with the pain was to seal herself off and put on a happy if not dutiful front. She sank herself into her business because while stressful and risky, a canceled reservation might break the bank, but it would not break her heart.
Here this stranger, though he was a hometown boy returned, threatened her carefully laid out life with his random kindness.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m just trying to teach you to look before you leap.”
“I’m not leaping,” he said. “I’m trying new things. You see change as the end of things. I see it as the beginning.”
He was never disrespectful to her, though his frankness sometimes caught her off guard. Often, he was right. She had taken for granted that he needed her constant counsel, when in fact, he had some valuable perspective of his own to offer.
He parked the truck, and they headed inside.
Celia thought about the dog and looked around the inn and wondered why they couldn’t have Lucky if Rob thought it was better for him and Jackson. She'd said no but not because of the work. Jackson would take care of him. It was because she didn’t want to lose control with something even mildly unpredictable as the day-to-day life with a dog.
“Hey, bud,” she called up the stairs to him.
Jackson was halfway to his room at the top of the house, a dormer room which, despite his age, he kept neat.
“Yeah?” He leaned over the rail to look down at her.
“What if we took Lucky?”
Her son’s posture straightened, and his lips spread into a smile that nearly split his beautiful face.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I like him. You like him. We have a fence. He isn’t a hummingbird, but the Hummingbird Inn could use a mascot.”
“We could strap wings to his back,” Jackson said. “He wouldn’t mind.”
And for the first time since she could remember, he bounded toward her, taking the steps two at a time, and gave her a big hug.
“Okay,” she giggled. “I think I have Rob’s number around here somewhere. He left it on the phone table. Go look.”
She followed him into the parlor. Rectangular windows that let the outside light in bordered the front door. It was snowing heavily and accumulating quickly. If she had any chance of getting the dog over here, she needed to act fast.
“Do you want to call him or should I?” she asked. “I mean, you know him better than I do.”
“Whatever.” He lifted his shoulders into a shrug. “I think since you said yes, you should call him.”
She tried not to seem too eager to call Rob, but it felt a little like she had a life outside the Hummingbird Inn making the call. Her mouth felt dry, and a lump stuck in her throat. Outside her earlier call to him to complain, she hadn’t called a man in a lifetime, and it was scary.
“Do you think he was serious about giving us the dog? You don’t think he said it just to say it, right?” She held the phone in her hand.
“It’s not the thing you say to people, Mom. Be real.”
“Okay,” she said, finding her nerve. She dialed his number. He took a moment to answer.
“Rob McKenna.”
“Hello, Mr. McKenna?” she said as he picked up. “This is Ms. Roberts, Jackson’s mom.”
When she glanced at Jackson, he rolled his eyes.
She turned her shoulder to him.
“Celia, good to hear from you. Everything okay?”
She loved the way his voice sounded happy. “Jackson and I were talking it over, and if you’re serious about letting him have the dog, we would like to take you up on that offer.”
“Oh, wow,” he said. “Yeah, okay. That would save me the hassle of building a fence. I think Lucky kind of belongs to Jackson, anyway. All you have to do is see them together to know that.”
“Yes, I agree.” Emotion warbled her words, but the tension released from her spine. Her voice changed from emotional to happy while she talked to him.
“I know it’s coming down hard, but I could give my new truck a test drive and bring Lucky over.”
“Are you sure?” She mouthed the word now to Jackson, who nodded enthusiastically. She hated to see Rob come out in the storm only to deliver the dog. “I’m about to make dinner. Why don’t you plan to stay if you have nothing else to do? I was going to do a spin on barbecue pork.”
Jackson’s jaw dropped, and that made her smile. They didn’t invite anyone to the house for dinner unless they were paying guests, and it felt so good she had to stifle her laugh.
“Okay,” he said. “See you in a few minutes.”
As soon as she was off the phone, Jackson launched into a full-blown mimicry of the conversation.
“Oh, Rob.” He placed his hand over his heart and gave her an over-the-top swoon.
“You better stop, young man.” She reached over and goosed him at the waist where he was ticklish.
“Oh, I agree, Rob,” he continued, as he dodged her.
She looked down at the phone and to her horror it wasn’t all the way hung up. She nudged it into place and waltzed into her kitchen in an extraordinarily good mood.
“Shall we have pork for dinner tonight?” she asked Jackson. “I can glaze it with that Chinese sauce you like so much.”
“Sounds great.” He leaned on the counter. “So he’s coming?”
Celia smiled from ear to ear, happy to confirm the good news.
“Yes, he’s putting Lucky in his truck now. Now wash up and set the table because we have a dinner guest.”
Chapter Six
Rob
It was coming down steadily as Rob loaded Lucky into the truck. It had been ages since he’d driven in the snow but having a heavy all-wheel-drive truck would make it easier.
What had been longer was going over to someone’s house for a nice meal. But at the rate the snow was falling, maybe he would have to take a raincheck—more like a snow check. If he stayed at the Hummingbird Inn for any length of time on a night like this, he would have to check in as a guest.
The cloud cover made the night look more progressed than it was. Rob’s lights were brilliant lanterns cutting through the heavy snowfall as he parked in front of the inn.
“Come on, Lucky.”
It tugged at his heart that he was parting with the dog. For a moment, he thought he had acted too hastily. He’d never given himself the chance to settle down or become attached to much of anything. He’d learned that lesson from his mother. She’d raised him like he was a business deal. His father, like Jackson’s, had taken off and left his mother on her own. The only good thing was that Fiona McKenna had the money in his family. His father was a handsome face that attracted her. When it came time to settle down, his father had no interest in being part of a family.
Was that how it had been with Celia and Jackson Sr.? It seemed odd that Jackson had taken his mother’s last name just as he had. Maybe his draw to the boy and Celia was one of commiseration.
Having no way to model what a good relationship should be, he was all business. The next deal had always been his mistress. Only now, it felt natural driving along with the dog as his partner, and he wondered if he’d missed out
on both life and love.
Rob climbed down from the truck and helped the dog out. As soon as Lucky hit the ground, he bounded across the yard, frolicking in the powdery snow that had covered the grass. He moved in circles, barking at Rob as though he were trying to get him to play.
Jackson opened the door of the inn with gusto. “C’mon Lucky,” he called, patting his thighs. Without hesitation, the beast scampered inside.
Celia appeared at the doorway. She was a petite woman, but next to her tall son, she looked like a small child. He ambled up the short walk, grinning with satisfaction that he’d made the right choice.
“Well, that went well.” The dog was thrilled with Jackson, and if Celia’s smile was any sign, she was happy with him.
“Thanks for that.” She leaned in as if she might hug him and thought better of it. “I can’t tell you how much this means to him.”
“I think I know.” Rob didn’t know Jackson, but he had his guesses. Rob had been a lonely kid for most of his growing-up years. In a way, the bullying had forged his sense of autonomy. It helped him stay focused on his goals. However, there were days and nights as a young boy when he could have used a companion like Lucky. Back then his mother didn’t allow animals in the house.
Celia closed the door behind them. As he kicked off the snow from his boots, he noticed the mess he’d made. He looked around to figure out the way to the kitchen for something to wipe up the snow.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“A towel?”
“I’ll get one. Take your shoes off and get comfortable.”
He talked louder so she could hear. “It’s coming down hard. I’ll unload Lucky’s food and stuff for Jackson, and then I should hit the road.”
“Oh.” She returned with the towel.
Was that disappointment he saw in her expression?
“Unless”—his eyes focused on her pouting lips—“dinner is already on.”
“Well, yeah,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to be rude,” he whispered. “I was only thinking of your convenience.”
“It’s no bother,” she said. “We’ll figure it out. You probably haven’t had a decent meal since you got here.”