The Inn at Blue Hollow Falls

by Donna Kauffman

  Sunny responded that the storm would be ending around midnight and the great dig out would commence in the morning, but not to bother coming to the greenhouse. It would be Christmas Eve, and Sawyer, Bailey, and Addie had offered to go down and help with the seedlings as soon as they could get there; then, other than a quick peek to check in on things, Sunny was taking Christmas Day off to be with her new family.

  Stevie texted back that she was closer to the greenhouse and would be more than happy to do the Christmas Day check, and the Christmas Eve check, too, if that helped. She knew Sawyer and Sunny would be facing a bigger dig out since they were at greater elevation. There you go, being the Ghost of Christmas Present.

  She couldn’t help it. She’d come to Blue Hollow Falls precisely to help Sunny, so of course she was going to offer. Sunny had spent last Christmas working alongside Stevie after Sunny’s mom had passed away during the previous year, but here it was, only a year later, and look how drastically her best friend’s life had changed. Sunny had gone from being alone in the world—best friends notwithstanding—to living a new life in a new place, surrounded by new family and new loved ones. Of course, Stevie would make sure her friend could enjoy her first Christmas with all of them. She texted back as much, and smiled when she got back a row of kissy smiley faces.

  Stevie replied in kind, then tucked her phone back into her pocket. And if she felt the tiniest pang of envy as she headed down the stairs, well, that wasn’t the same as feeling sorry for herself. She’d get to spend two days inside that gorgeous old greenhouse, playing lady of the manor, tending to their newest little charges. Nothing would make her happier. Christmas was just another day, after all.

  Still, she felt a little pang when she stepped into the dining room and watched as Noah chatted and laughed with a young couple who must be the newlyweds, since it was Stevie’s first time laying eyes on them. He smoothly introduced them to Beth and Bruce Howland, the other young couple who appeared to be about their same age, before turning to answer a question from Norma, a smile on his handsome face. He nodded in response to whatever Norma was telling him even as he opened the cupboard under the coffee setups and pulled out a huge plastic tub of popcorn kernels and handed it to a waiting Melanie. He made it look easy, and comfortable, like he wasn’t harried or being pulled in a dozen different directions at once.

  He glanced at the doorway the moment she entered the dining room and his beautiful brown eyes warmed when he saw her. She smiled back, and they shared a brief moment, before he turned to Norma, nodding as if he hadn’t missed a beat. And Stevie knew he probably hadn’t. That was Noah, making all his guests feel they had his undivided attention, even as he divided himself multiple times just to keep everything moving along.

  He’d made her feel that way every time they’d been alone with each other, and she wondered what it would be like to have his full, undivided attention on her in a far more intimate setting. The thought sent a little shiver of anticipation racing down her spine. Yes, anticipation. Because she’d made a decision. Several of them, actually. Yes, she’d help Sunny with the greenhouse on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, assuming the snowplows were already gearing up to free her, because that was why she’d come here, and because she absolutely didn’t mind. She’d enjoy herself immensely, of that she had no doubt.

  She shifted her gaze back to Noah as she headed toward the swinging door to the kitchen, intent on gathering the big, shrink-wrapped packages of mini cereal boxes and cartons of instant oatmeal packets she’d seen stored in the pantry. That was her other decision. Or, should she say, he was her other decision. She might not view the next two days as being particularly different or more special than any other two days of the year, but if she played her cards and mini cereal boxes right, they were going to be very, very special to her this year at least. Not because they were holidays, but because she was going to make it her mission to find out as much about Noah Tyler as she could. You can’t know what’s worth fighting for until you know what you’ve got. He’d been right about that. And part of what she intended to get was her Mr. Sexy Baritone Lumberjack Innkeeper alone, in bed, with nothing else on his immediate to-do list . . . but her.

  To that end, she got busy taking as many of the other items off that list as she could. Merry Christmas to me, she thought with a little grin as she bustled in and out of the pantry. So there, Scrooge.

  Twenty minutes and possibly a hummed Christmas carol or two later, Stevie had filled the rolling cart and was halfway to the swinging door when the power went out, plunging the kitchen into total darkness. She went stock-still. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she muttered, letting her chin drop to her chest. Then she glanced heavenward. Not exactly the sign I was looking for, Granny May.

  Chapter Six

  “Bingo!” Norma shouted, jumping to her feet. “Oh my goodness, I actually got bingo!”

  Everyone clapped and laughed as Jenny made her way through the candlelit tables in the dining room to check the coffee beans on Norma’s bingo card.

  Jenny dutifully called out the numbers to head bingo master, Stevie, then gave Norma a big hug when her bingo was called a certified win. Jenny handed Norma her prize, which was one of the handmade stuffed wreaths that hung in the front windows, slightly bigger versions of the ones that hung on the doors to their rooms, all of which had already been given out in previous games. Norma was the last guest to finally claim one of her own.

  Noah clapped along with the rest of the group and winked at Stevie. He’d gotten the emergency generators going, which illuminated the hallways and the kitchen with low-level lighting and, most important, kept the furnace chugging along. The fireplaces on all three floors had all been stoked back up again to provide a warm, cozy glow, but despite Noah’s calming everyone and assuring them that everything would be fine, the latest complication had seemed to rev the guests up again. Gathering them all in the dining room to play candlelight bingo had been Stevie’s idea.

  She’d run bingo games at her granny’s senior home, it turned out, and swore that nothing kept folks calm and focused better than bingo. She’d found a stash of old, yellowed bingo cards in one of the board-game boxes earlier that day, along with a felt bag full of bingo balls. They hadn’t had any chips or a bingo ball holder, but that hadn’t stopped Stevie. They’d used coffee beans for bingo chips, and she’d just reached in the bag and pulled out the small yellow balls, one at a time, using a little flashlight to read each one. The wreath prizes had been Noah’s idea. Stevie had told him he didn’t need to do that, and he’d worried they might think it was lame, but she’d been right in saying that it didn’t really matter what the prize was; it was all about winning. Each time a guest called out bingo, they were so excited you’d have thought he was handing out bags of money.

  “Well, folks,” he called out, as they all slid their coffee beans back into their paper cups. “That’s the last wreath of the night. It’s after midnight, so happy Christmas Eve Day!”

  Everyone cheered, and there were lots of exclamations about the late hour and how they’d had no idea. Noah certainly had—he was dead on his feet—but they’d all been having such a good time not a single guest, other than the newlyweds, had called it a night to head up to their rooms.

  “They’re usually pretty good at getting the power back on, but the storm has probably slowed things down. I checked outside just a few minutes ago, and the snow does seem to have stopped. Even better, the wind has finally died down. They’re calling for sunny skies tomorrow, so the plows should get us dug out, and you all can go out and enjoy the beautiful winter wonderland, hopefully by lunchtime. Continental breakfast and coffee will be set out by seven thirty, and a hot breakfast will be served by nine.”

  Just then the foyer door burst open, bringing in with it a swirl of snow and a very tall man. Everyone gasped, and Noah immediately moved forward.

  The man pulled off a knit beanie, then turned to look back out the door. “Thank you, mates,” he
called out, his voice deep, the accent Australian, which immediately had Noah grinning. The tall man closed the door and turned back to face the now standing group, just as Noah made his way around the last table. “G’day, boss! I’ve come bearing sharp knives and a thirst to get cooking. Merry Christmas!”

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Noah said, grabbing the man’s gloved hand and giving it a firm shake. “How in the world did you get out here?”

  “Two snowplows and a truly crazy state trooper.” He grinned. “Must have Aussie blood in his tree somewhere.”

  Noah turned to the assembled crowd. “This is Hudson Walker, your new chef.”

  Everyone clapped enthusiastically, calling out welcomes and wishing him a merry Christmas.

  “As you can see, power is down, but hopefully that will be rectified by morning. I’m keeping the generators on low grade until I get a report from the power company, but we can crank it up in the morning so you’ll have what you need to cook. That said, I’m afraid we’ve gone through most of the larder and my stock shipment obviously didn’t arrive as planned today. I don’t have high hopes for tomorrow either, and then Sunday is Christmas, so it’s likely to be trial by fire, but I’ll just be grateful for the extra pair of hands at this point.” Noah grinned. “Welcome to the Inn at Blue Hollow Falls, mate.”

  “You leave it to me,” Hudson said, not even blinking at the litany of news. “I’ll have them eating out of my hands before they finish their morning joe.”

  Noah chuckled, remembering again why he’d hired the guy, and not just because he was insanely talented. Hud was possibly the most positive spirit Noah had ever met, and the man could back it up with an amazing skill set in the kitchen. He was an avid white-water kayaker and hiker, so Hud had thought the inn position a dream job. Noah was hoping he still felt that way after the first weekend on the job. One thing was for certain: if anyone could charm his guests out of their worries, it was going to be this guy. “I’ll take you up on that,” Noah said. “Let me show you to your room.”

  Noah caught Stevie’s eye as he shepherded his new chef toward the kitchen and winked. He saw she was helping the girls clean up the bingo cards and beans, and she made a motion that she’d work on herding the guests in the direction of their rooms.

  “Wait for me,” he mouthed, and her eyes lit up as she nodded.

  He’d never really considered what it would be like to run the inn alongside someone else. Carolyn had never positioned herself in that role, making that clear even before the renovations had been completed, so he’d never let himself even think that way. In the time since, well, this was his baby, his dream. He’d have made it work with Carolyn if she’d wanted to be with him—he didn’t need someone to share his dream. He just wanted someone who was willing to share his life.

  And yet, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t watched Stevie that night, laughing with the guests, taking on the role of social director, and having a really good time with it, or at least she had appeared to be. He didn’t think she was doing any of this to impress him; she was too straightforward a person for that. If anything, she’d gone out of her way not to raise his expectations about the two of them. She was just doing what she said she always did—saw where help was needed and pitched in. He doubted she had any idea that if she’d really wanted him to stop falling for her, then her best bet would have been to simply lock herself away in her room. Not because she needed to worry about unwanted advances, but because the more he was around her, watching her simply be who she was, the more he was becoming convinced that she really was the one for him.

  He ignored the little voice reminding him that this perfect-for-him woman lived and worked three hours away. Hudson was here now, which would help Noah enormously, and after the holidays were over, it would be the inn’s slowest season of the year, as winter worked its way toward spring. He would likely be tied down over the weekends, but midweek he could find his way to the city. She’d probably be working, but he was certain he could entertain himself during the days, and they’d have evenings together. If she was game, she could come down on the weekends whenever she wanted. He’d be working, but nothing like this weekend. They’d have time, and just having her there at the inn with him would be enough.

  Listen to you, plotting this all out, he thought with a wry smirk. Like she’s agreed to ever see your sorry, overworked ass after this fiasco of a holiday is over. With his luck, she’d run home to the city and never look back. Except her best friend was here, with that big greenhouse of hers as an extra incentive. He smiled to himself. You’re officially pathetic, man.

  Noah got Hud settled in his room, which was tucked in an alcove on the far side of the kitchen, then headed back toward the dining room, but never made it past the kitchen. Stevie was sitting up on one of the worktables, ankles crossed, swinging her feet. She smiled when he came in. “I don’t want to know how many health codes I’m breaking,” she told him. “I needed to get off my feet, and there are no chairs in here.”

  “Plenty of chairs in the dining room,” he said, walking toward her.

  “I’m hiding.”

  “Ah,” he said, trying not to let his disappointment show. “So, we still have guests milling about?”

  She nodded. “Just the Beattys and the girls. Your new chef really knows how to make an entrance,” she said with a grin. “Woke everybody right up.”

  “Yeah, I thought that might be the case. If it’s any consolation, he’s even more of a showman in the kitchen. Breakfast will make the world a better place; I can guarantee it.”

  “Has he seen the larder?” she asked skeptically.

  Noah nodded. “The man is a magician. You wait and see.”

  She tilted her head when Noah came to stand in front of her, planting his palms on the worktable on either side of her thighs. “Who are you trying to convince? Me, or—”

  “My feet,” he said with a sigh. “I love my job, I do. But I’m not lying when I say it’s possible I’ve never so looked forward to seeing my bed as I am tonight.”

  Even in the dim lighting, he saw the tiniest bit of twinkle go out in her eyes, which had the exact opposite effect on him. Had she come in here . . . was she planning on . . .

  He grinned and leaned in. “Why, Miss Franklin, could it be you came in here with the intent to seduce your innkeeper?”

  There was a flash of surprise, but it was quickly overtaken by a look of pure delight. “Whyever would you think that, Mr. Tyler?” she said, feigning a soft, Southern accent.

  He moved in closer. “I firmly believe if you visualize your desires, you can will them into becoming reality.”

  “I see,” she said, and lifted her hands from her knees to slide them around his neck.

  At the first brush of her fingers on the bare skin of his neck, the fatigue he’d been battling since dinner eased away, and he felt a renewed surge of energy. Well, certain parts of him did, anyway, and that was good enough.

  “And what,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed the rim of his ear, “were you visualizing, exactly?”

  Running this inn with you by my side, he thought, and accepted the truth of it, no matter how much he’d tried to make himself believe otherwise. He didn’t just want someone to share parts of his life with him; he wanted someone willing to share all the parts of his life with him. Selfish, maybe, but he’d just had one of his toughest days yet as an innkeeper, and he could honestly say that having Stevie there had also made it one of his best days yet. Certainly the most memorable, and, he realized, all the memories would make him smile. And the day’s not over yet.

  “I was picturing a long, very hot shower to ease the day out of my muscles, candlelit, of course, with the power being out and all.”

  “Sensible,” she said, dropping a kiss on the side of his neck. “Though I commend you for facing your inevitable and quite understandable fear of fire so quickly and authoritatively.”

  “Yes, well, I put on a brave face when
the power went out.” He nudged her head up so she looked into his eyes. “I might need some assistance in that area, you know, now that I’m no longer putting on a brave face for my guests.” He tried a boyish, hopeful expression.

  She grinned. “I don’t think Hudson Walker has anything on you in the showmanship department.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, well, speaking of performance anxiety . . .”

  She leaned in and nipped his chin, then slid to the edge of the table and surprised him by wrapping her legs around his hips. “Something tells me you’re going to need very little assistance with that.”

  He smoothed his hands along her thighs, then tugged her hips closer to his, taking her resulting moan into his mouth with a long, deep kiss. “You might be right,” he said, his voice going all guttural now.

  “Possibly,” she said, sounding breathless.

  “Do I need to do anything else in the dining room tonight?” he murmured, as he kissed his way to her ear.

  She squirmed against him when he nipped her earlobe, then suckled it. “The girls have things under control,” she gasped. “I say we let them fend for themselves.”

  “Sound plan,” he said, then scooped her up off the table. “Hold on.”

  “Try and stop me,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

  He grinned and pressed a kiss against her hair as he carried her through the door to a short hallway that led back to his personal quarters. “Why on earth would I ever do something as foolish as that?”

  Chapter Seven

  It was dark back in Noah’s living area, so Stevie really couldn’t get a look at her surroundings. And that was fine with her. He carried her all the way to what turned out to be a generously sized bathroom that held a walk-in shower big enough for the two of them and maybe a few of their closest friends.

  “Wow,” she said, after he set her down, then lit a few candles. Their warm, yellow glow flickered to life and filled the room with soft light. “That’s a shower,” she said, noting the big, pan-sized waterfall showerheads stationed at both ends, and the long bench seat built in to the back wall. There were handheld showers hooked on the walls beneath the other waterworks as well. What more could a girl want?