Baby, It's Cold Outside

by Cathy Yardley

  Tim shifted in his chair, his expression pained. “I’m sure you can hire some more people….”

  “With what money, Tim?” She shook her head. “No. I’ll try to find someone who will keep the inn the way it is, hopefully someone who has enough money to turn it into the showplace I know it can be. And I’ll come back to visit. Heck, I’ll probably even stay here for old times’ sake,” she said, with a slow grin. “But I’m going to sell the inn, Tim. There’s no question about that.”

  He looked dejected. “Actually…er, there is some question about that.”

  She looked at him, not comprehending. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Stanfield house has been here for four generations,” he explained, his pale gray eyes begging her for understanding. “It’s one of the oldest buildings in the town. It belonged to one of the founding fathers of Tall Pines. It’s mentioned in the town charter and any number of documents in the town records. It’s even in old letters that we have in the historical section of the main library.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Emily said. “I already know how much the house means to the town. But you know my reasoning.”

  “Em,” he said, “we were really worried that you were going to sell the place to a monster land developer, somebody who would crush the spirit of the town that we’ve been working hard to preserve.”

  “Well, I’m not,” she pointed out, irritated. “Damn it, Tim, what’s going on?”

  “While you were gone,” he said slowly, “we had an emergency town meeting.”

  Emily felt a cold chill ball in her stomach. “Somehow I’m not shocked.” It was probably the hottest gossip they’d had in years. “Other than discussing how terrible I was for three hours, what conclusions did you come to?”

  “We don’t think you’re terrible,” Tim said quickly. “We thought you were…upset. And that Colin—”

  “Don’t even bring Colin into this,” Emily snapped. “Not unless you want me to kick you out right now.”

  “Okay. No Colin,” he agreed.

  “Just get to the point, Tim.”

  He took a deep breath, and his face was hangdog ashamed. “You can’t sell the inn, Emily.”

  Emily growled. “I know you don’t want me to, all right? I got that. And if that’s all you came here to—”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Tim clarified. “You can’t sell the inn. Not without the town’s written permission.”

  Emily stood up. “What?”

  “We had the Stanfield house turned into a historic landmark while you were in Paris,” he said in a low voice. “We made it so you can’t sell the inn to anyone.”

  Emily stared at him, agog. “You won’t let me look for buyers.”

  “That’s about it.” At least he sounded apologetic, and he stood up, reaching for her to give her a hug.

  “Get away from me,” she said, her voice cold.

  Tim sent her one last sad look, then left.

  She sank back down in her chair, her head in her hands. She had no help, no money to make improvements and now she couldn’t even look for sympathetic buyers. The town had found a way to keep their golden girl there, possibly forever. She wouldn’t be able to take a vacation to Paris in the next few years, much less move there.

  Tall Pines. Her childhood home. For many years her favorite place on Earth.

  She felt the tears start to crawl down her cheeks.

  And now I’m trapped here.

  THE PHONE RANG IN Colin’s apartment. He looked up from the blueprint he was going over on his drafting table, answering it automatically. “Bonjour?”

  “Hey, Colin.”“Emily,” he said, smiling and relaxing for the first time in days. “I was just thinking of you. Haven’t stopped, as a matter of fact.”

  “That’s nice,” she said. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you, either.”

  That’s when he heard it—the little catch in her voice, the tiniest tremor. She was upset. “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, bracing himself.

  “I can’t sell the hotel.”

  “Well, not to those people,” Colin said, confused. “There’s a big world of investors out there, though, and I’m sure you—”

  “You don’t understand,” she interrupted. “I didn’t at first, either. The town declared the inn a historical landmark while I was gone. Now it’s political. I can’t sell the hotel without the approval of the town.”

  Colin felt his blood run hot with fury. “They what?”

  “They declared the Stanfield house a historical landmark,” Emily said, her voice drowning in fatigue. “I couldn’t believe they could move so fast, but I guess when they all really, really want something…”

  “So what does that mean?” Colin asked, trying not to let his anger get out of control.

  “It means I need to get permission from the town council and the mayor’s office to put the house up for sale. They need to approve anybody who buys it, making sure that they uphold the usage and preserve the monument for future generations.”

  “It’s a nice inn, but a monument?” Colin said, flabbergasted.

  “Yeah, I know,” Emily answered. “I doubt they’d think of it as a monument if they knew what I know about the plumbing in room five. Not to mention the attic.”

  He clutched the phone until his knuckles turned white, the only thing that prevented him from throwing it in a fit of anger. “I can’t believe it,” he said slowly. “No. I can believe it. Those bastards.”

  “Wait a minute,” Emily said slowly. “I felt upset at first, too, but I’m trying to stay positive about all this.”

  “Positive?” Colin yelped. “They’re just looking out for themselves and their interests and making sure that not a damned thing changes in their perfect little Americana world.”

  “Come on. Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

  “Are you actually defending them?” he replied. “You’re the one they’re screwing over. They’ve taken away your right to determine what you do with your own business and your own house. They’ve basically chained you there.” He realized he was close to yelling and clamped down on his wayward emotions, forcing his voice to level out. “After all that, you’re just going to let them get away with it? You’re going to try to convince me that it’s okay?”

  “It’s not okay,” she said sharply. “But I know why they did it. Now nobody can tear the place down and build some corporate megalith here.”

  “And you can’t leave,” Colin added.

  “I’m sure that wasn’t the point.” But Emily didn’t sound sure at all.

  Colin ground his teeth together, hard enough for them to rasp. He growled in frustration. “What about us, Emily?”

  There was a long pause. “I don’t know.” She sounded lost.

  “Damn it!” He knew he shouldn’t be losing it this way, but he’d been thinking of her almost every moment since he’d dropped her off at the airport. Especially after their stunning goodbye in his car. He couldn’t drive it without thinking of her, a precarious development. “I’m sorry, Emily. I just…”

  “I know,” she said, and her voice was ragged. “Believe me—nobody’s more disappointed than I am by this turn of events.”

  “I think I could debate you on that,” he said. “There’s got to be some loophole. Some way to get out of it.”

  “I’m still looking into it. But with Sue quitting on me, I’m swamped with stuff that needs to be done in the hotel. By the time I get a minute to research the details of the landmark decree, I’m usually blurry-eyed and exhausted.”

  Colin thought about it. “You could just abandon it,” he suggested.

  “Sorry?” she said. “Did you say…abandon the hotel?”

  “They’re the ones that put you in the position.” He had a sinking feeling. “It would serve them right to deal with what you’ve had to deal with all this time.”

  “I know that what they did wasn’t right,” she said in a placating t
one. “But screwing them over just because they screwed me over doesn’t feel right.”

  He exhaled loudly, trying to relieve some of the tension skittering through his system. “I knew you were going to look at it that way,” he groused. “So, again…where does that leave us, Emily? What are we going to do?”

  She laughed weakly. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a vacation coming up? I’ve got a bed waiting here at the inn for you.”

  His stomach turned. “I can’t go back to that town knowing what they did to you. What they’re doing to us. It’s pure selfishness and small-mindedness, and as far as I’m concerned, they can rot in their cozy little houses, for all I care.”

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I can’t begin to tell you how much I mean that,” Colin said, his voice curt. “Emily, I know you’re a good person, and I admire you for turning the other cheek. But you got reamed. You can’t just sit there and take it.”

  “It’s my decision.” She exhaled sharply. “You’re not the one who’s trapped, I am. And I’ll deal with it my own way.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But you can’t expect me to go there and put on a good face for all those people. I won’t do it, Emily.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she yelped. “Like I don’t have enough problems, now you’re refusing to visit me?”

  “As long as you’re going to roll over and play dead while they stomp on you, yes!”

  Another long pause. “I don’t need this,” she said softly.

  “If you’re choosing to submit to them without even a token fight,” he replied, “I can’t go along with it. You have to see my point.”

  “It’s official. I have snapped. I have completely had it with all of you,” Emily yelled.

  “So do something about it,” Colin said, warming up.

  “I am.” Emily took a deep breath. “It’s been real, but we’ve had our run.”

  He blinked. “Wait a minute. You’re breaking up with me over this?”

  “I’ve had enough ultimatums in the past week to last me a frickin’ lifetime,” she said. “I don’t know what I can do about the town, but you were supposed to know me, and love me. You, of all people, were supposed to back me up.”

  “I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself,” he countered, feeling uneasy.

  “I am doing the best I can,” she stated.

  “Well, when you come up with an answer…”

  “I thought I meant more to you than your animosity for Tall Pines.”

  That took him aback. “You do.”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” Her words were bitter, acidic. “You’re so interested in punishing them and showing that you’re a bigger moral force that you’re willing to let the woman you supposedly love just twist in the wind all by herself. Just so you can be right.”

  “Emily,” he said, stricken.

  “No. I’m done.” She was crying. He could hear it in her voice. “Have a good time in Paris—or Borneo or wherever your damned buildings take you. I’ll still be here in Tall Pines.”

  With that, she hung up. He heard the buzzing European dial tone and slammed the phone into its cradle.

  “Damn it!” he repeated, punching the air ineffectually. How could one small town make him so crazy? Why couldn’t they let Emily sell the hotel and move on with her life?

  Why couldn’t she see why he was right—that they were blackmailing her and she couldn’t give in to them?

  Colin closed his eyes. He’d made a mistake, obviously. She was too set in her ways, too small-town. She’d rather put up with them than stand up to them once and for all. Well, at least he’d found out now rather than when she’d moved all the way to Paris to be with him.

  He swallowed hard, feeling emotion choking his throat.

  I love her, he thought. I miss her. I want to be with her.

  He closed his eyes. So this was what real heartbreak felt like. It sucked something awful.

  He turned back to his plans. He’d focus on his work and not think about Emily or Tall Pines or any of it.

  12

  “SO ARE WE ALL agreed?” Ava Reese said, rapping her water glass on the Formica tabletop. “Instead of the usual red and pink hearts and streamers for the Valentine’s dance at the Otter Lodge, we’re going to go with silver, black and gold balloons and confetti, tealight candles on mirrors for centerpieces and the big black-and-white movie posters of romantic couples? I think it’ll be striking—and not so cliché.”

  There was a general murmur of assent from all the ladies present, and she cheerfully checked it off her list.Emily sat in the living room at Janet Cunningham’s house, surrounded by the twelve members of the dance committee. Valentine’s Day was only two weeks away. They were behind on the planning, and all the women were scurrying around, gossiping lightly, complaining about how they were still recovering from the holidays.

  Emily was still recovering from other things. Sue was hanging on, trying to help even though her stomach now showed the beginnings of a bump. In the meantime, Emily was interviewing candidates, running through numbers and doing whatever she could to ignore the fact that it had been two very long, very painful weeks since she had heard from Colin.

  “Can we take a break?” Mrs. Rutledge asked. “We’ve been here for an hour, and I’m starving. I brought some fresh-baked banana bread.”

  “All right.” Ava was clearly reluctant to give up the floor.

  “Come on into the kitchen,” Janet invited. “I’ve got plenty of food, tea, coffee. Help yourselves.”

  Everyone but Emily and Ava stood up. Emily noticed that most of the women either avoided looking at her completely or sent her the occasional look of confused apology mixed with disappointment. Emily didn’t react to either the sentiment or the avoidance. She didn’t react to anything anymore, it seemed.

  Mrs. Rutledge came back to the couch, a piece of banana bread on a small paper plate in one hand, an earthenware mug of coffee in the other. She put the mug on the coffee table, then turned to Emily with determination. “I understand you’ve recently gotten back from Paris,” she said, her tone casual. As if she’d never said anything at the town meeting, much less accused Emily of betraying the town’s trust. “How was your trip?”

  Emily stared at her for a second. She hadn’t let go of the situation, not entirely. But Mrs. Rutledge was old, and it wasn’t going to change Emily’s situation at all to be bitchy to a woman she’d known all her life. She decided to take the high road. “Paris was nice,” she offered.

  It was a small olive branch, but Mrs. Rutledge grabbed it. “Paris is so lovely,” she enthused. “Even in the winter.”

  Emily nodded. “It was one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever seen.”

  There. Easy, comfortable conversation.

  Then Mrs. Rutledge studied her with scrutiny. “Will you be visiting again anytime soon?”

  Emily stiffened. She wasn’t asking about vacation plans. She was asking about Colin.

  “Not in the foreseeable future,” Emily said, her voice frosty. “I’m far too busy with the inn.”

  “Ah,” Mrs. Rutledge said, sipping her coffee. “I don’t suppose you’re expecting any visitors, then?”

  Mrs. Rutledge was subtle, at least—or tried to be. Emily had to give her that.

  “No, no visitors,” Emily answered. It was as if they were speaking in code. “Joy may drop by—it seems she’s fallen in love with the town. But otherwise I’m not expecting anyone.”

  “I see.” Mrs. Rutledge nibbled at her cake, obviously weighing her next words. “I know you’re busy, dear, but you shouldn’t let your correspondence fall behind. It’s a nice thing to keep in touch with the people you love, especially the ones who are so far away.”

  Emily didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything.

  “And do send letters,” she added. “E-mails are so terse and common. Letters, on the other hand, are a lost art.”

  “When I think of what t
o say, perhaps,” Emily hedged.

  Mrs. Rutledge smiled knowingly. “Perhaps.”

  Ava stared at Emily throughout the whole exchange. “You know, I have something for you out in the car,” she said, getting to her feet and nudging Emily. “Walk with me?”

  Emily started, feeling dread. She hadn’t been alone with Colin’s family since before she’d left for Paris. She couldn’t think of any reason to say no, however, so she got up, accompanying Ava. They stepped out Janet’s front door into the chilly air. “I should have brought my jacket,” Emily said inanely, wrapping her arms around herself. “If you…”

  “I’m so sorry, dear.”

  The statement brought Emily up short. “For what?”

  “The town meeting. The landmark decision. Colin.” Ava looked miserable. “Everything.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Emily demurred, feeling off balance. Then her eyes narrowed. “What exactly about Colin are you apologizing for?”

  “I thought it would be wonderful for him to fall in love with a girl from Tall Pines,” Ava said. “He’d finally understand what it means to settle down and…oh, I’ll admit it, I was selfish. I’m adopted, did I ever tell you?”

  Emily blinked. “I seem to remember something….”

  “I was raised by my aunt and uncle, the Stewarts. They were wonderful to bring me in, but…” Ava frowned delicately. “They weren’t really children people, if you understand.”

  “Oh,” Emily said, feeling uncomfortable. What could you say to a statement like that?

  “At any rate, I’ve always had this vision,” Ava shared wistfully, “of having all my kids around me, a big, happy family.” She went quiet for a minute. “When Colin went off to school and then made it clear that he wasn’t coming back, my heart broke. I knew my son—when he sets his mind to something, he does it.”

  Now, that Emily could relate to. She patted Ava’s shoulder awkwardly, trying to comfort her.

  “When he brought you home to dinner, I was beyond thrilled,” Ava finally said. “It never occurred to me…”

  The sentence petered off, and Emily prompted her, “Never occurred to you that what?”