One Snowy Night

by Patience Griffin

  “I can help with that,” Donovan said.

  “No. Sleeping Beauty is getting cranky and should get some rest.” Rick gave him a concerned look. “I promise it’s all going to work out.”

  “I doubt it.” Donovan pushed back his chair. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He grabbed Boomer and headed upstairs.

  Once he got to the top landing, he glanced at Hope’s door for a second longer than he should’ve. He couldn’t believe the crazy mess that had brought her here but was glad that she was. He went to his room and settled Boomer at the end of his bed. But when he lay down and stretched out, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about the impossible deadline. Or was it the four cups of coffee keeping him awake. Or it might be that his houseguests—Hope and his daughter—were sleeping soundly across the hall. Like a strong wave taking him unaware, he was hit all over again. He and Hope had a daughter! The thought was overwhelming, yet he was pleased to no end. Ella was a mixture of energy, sass, angst, and joy, especially when she played with Boomer. She reminded him of his grandmother. Of Hope. Of Beau. And the best of him. God had dropped a miracle in his lap and Donovan was grateful.

  Yet he was aware that if he hadn’t come back to Sweet Home, he might never have known about Ella. Anger at Hope welled up again. But Father Mike had said not to expect forgiveness to be a one-and-done. Forgiveness was a process. Which required patience and lots of practice. The payoff was relief from the pain of the past.

  Donovan finally dozed for a couple of hours before his alarm went off. He was so wiped out he was sure no amount of coffee would fix the problem. Once again, he considered putting Sweet Home in his rearview mirror. But the thought of leaving Ella when he hadn’t even gotten to know her had him rolling out of bed. He couldn’t immediately fix what was troubling his daughter, but he could tackle today’s to-do list that Rick had put together.

  When Donovan stepped into the kitchen, Hope was already there, looking in the cabinets. She must’ve set her alarm to early o’clock, too.

  “Coffee’s up there,” he said, pointing.

  She jumped and grabbed her chest. “You did it again. Don’t scare me like that. Especially when I’m not fully awake.”

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  She paused before answering. “Fine. You?”

  “The same,” he lied.

  She went back to making coffee. “I’ll get this started and then I need to get Ella’s clothes in the dryer so she’ll have something to wear to school.”

  He shook his head. “I finished her clothes last night.”

  “You what?”

  “I hung up a bunch of her things since I wasn’t sure if they went in the dryer or not. Go take a look in the laundry room. You may need to pop something into the dryer.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.” She sounded almost angry.

  “It’s no big deal. I was awake.” And she’s my daughter, too.

  Hope turned on the coffeemaker and huffed from the room.

  She was back in a few minutes. “Um, thank you for taking care of her things. Sorry, you know, for how I acted. I’m not used to getting help and it kind of freaks me out.”

  He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Have you thought about therapy for that?”

  “Like I could afford it,” she muttered.

  He pulled down a couple of coffee cups for them. “Should I get a mug down for Ella, too? Does she drink coffee in the morning?”

  “Goodness, no. She already drinks too much soda with caffeine as it is.”

  “What does she like for breakfast?” he asked. He genuinely wanted to know.

  Hope scanned the room. “If it’s okay, I’ll make French toast, her favorite. I want to do something special to make up for her having to stay here.”

  His defenses went up but he settled them down. He remembered being a teenager and how even little changes could set him off. “Make yourself at home.” He pulled all his thoughts together and tried to form them into words. “You know, I’m not sorry that your water heater flooded your house.”

  “What? That’s a horrible thing to say—”

  He blew out some pent-up air. “Sorry. Not what I meant. What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you’re here.”

  Her eyes flicked wider in . . . surprise?

  He had to set her straight. “I’m glad for the chance to get to know Ella.”

  “Yes, well, that’s good. I’m glad you want to know her.” But judging by her tone she wasn’t completely on board. “She’s a great kid.” Hope poured her coffee, not meeting his eyes. “I assume, since I’m your employee, that I’ll have to help you get ready for the wine tasting?”

  “Yes. If that’s okay.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “You can’t, Hope. It’s all hands on deck. And then some, if you’re up for it.”

  She turned around suddenly, her face expectant, her coffee nearly sloshing over the side. “Do you mind if Ella helps out, too?”

  “That would be great.” He should’ve thought of it, another chance to spend time with his daughter. “We can definitely use all the help we can get.” Now he had five people on the team.

  “I think an after-school job would be good for her, help her to work through her grief over my dad.” Hope opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. She paused for a second. “You said at the town council meeting that you’re a . . . recovering alcoholic?” She looked embarrassed to have said it aloud.

  “I am. What do you want to know?” he asked.

  “I was wondering if you have ideas on how to get Ella to stop drinking. How did you stop?”

  This was the first inclusive thing Hope had said to him concerning Ella.

  “The military helped a lot,” he responded readily. Being in the service gave meaning and purpose to his life and helped him through his darkest days of losing Beau. “There’s nothing like Uncle Sam bearing down on you to make you get out of bed in the morning.” The military had also given Donovan a career path. He served his term of service, got his GED, went to college, and then started his own software company. Last month, days before Grandpa died, Donovan had exited the company, setting himself up financially for years to come. Or at least he’d thought so. Now a lot of the profits would be going toward the lodge and the hardware store.

  “I’m not sending Ella off to military school, if that’s what you’re proposing,” Hope said.

  “I was just telling you about my first wake-up call. AA is what saved me,” Donovan clarified.

  “There aren’t any AA meetings nearby. I’ve checked.” Her expression was thoughtful. “But there should be. We have a real problem here in Sweet Home.”

  Donovan wondered what he could do to bring AA here. But Rick had made it clear last night that they already had their hands full with the lodge and the hardware store. It didn’t matter. “We’ll think of something for Ella,” he promised. Donovan would do anything for his daughter.

  “Think of what for Ella?” Ella stood in the doorway. Her eyes were scrunched together as if the kitchen light were actually causing her pain.

  Hope set the eggs on the counter and hurried over to her, pushing her hair back from her face. “I’m making French toast. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Donovan would bet that Ella’s hangover would keep her from eating. He opened the pantry and pulled out a bottle of Advil. “I’ve got something for that headache.”

  Ella looked too miserable to argue and dropped into a chair.

  “Most of your clothes are in the laundry room down the hall,” Hope said.

  “Why?”

  “A consequence of leaving them on the floor. They all got wet,” Hope reported. “Everything is washed, thanks to Donovan, but you might need to throw something into the dryer.”

  “I’m supposed to be at school early this morning.” />
  “What for?” Hope asked.

  “Makeup exam,” Ella answered.

  “Makeup for what?” Hope’s pitch had risen.

  “Chemistry.” Ella held up her hand. “Do me a solid. No third degree this morning.”

  Hope sighed. “Fine. We’ll talk after school.”

  “I’m busy after school.” Ella dropped her forehead to the kitchen table.

  Donovan set a couple of crackers, an Advil, and a glass of water in front of her. “Eat the crackers, then take the pill. It should help.”

  Wordlessly, Ella looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

  “I promise it’ll make you feel better,” he said.

  Ella put her head down again. “I don’t need a father,” she said into the table.

  He tamped down his hurt. “How about a friend, then?” For as long as he was here, he was going to be parental backup for Hope . . . if she’d allow it. Maybe he and Ella could grow into a father-daughter relationship. It was going to be hard since he was leaving soon, but he was going to try.

  Hope cracked eggs while speaking over her shoulder. “Whatever you have going this afternoon, Ella, you need to cancel it.”

  “Why?” Ella groaned as if the single syllable took too much effort.

  “You’re starting your new after-school job.”

  Ella glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  Donovan jumped in. “We’re going to revive the Christmas Festival here in Sweet Home. We’re on a tight schedule and we could really use your help around here.”

  She stared at the crackers as if they were poison. “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Non-negotiable,” Hope said with mock cheeriness as she dipped the bread in the whipped eggs.

  Donovan was in awe of Hope’s patience and even keel with Ella . . . and he wanted to participate. “Did I mention, Ella, that I pay my employees pretty well?”

  “Well, that’s something.” She picked up a cracker and nibbled at it.

  Boomer wandered in. As if Ella had puppy radar, she popped up and grabbed him. “You are so stinking cute!” Her transformation from moping teen to happy kid was evidence that Boomer cured hangovers.

  “Can you take him outside?” Hope asked. “Donovan needs to fill me in on what needs to get done today. Wear my boots. They’re by the front door.”

  Ella didn’t need to be told twice. She took the dog and Donovan couldn’t help but follow, just to watch his daughter. He was in awe of her, too.

  She put Boomer down for just a moment while she slipped on Hope’s boots, all the while chatting with his dog about how cute he was.

  When she opened the door, she stopped short and turned back to Donovan, a quizzical expression on her face.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’m not certain. But I think you have company.”

  Donovan stepped in front of her and peered out, unsure of what he was seeing. At least half a dozen vehicles were packed into the lodge’s driveway, with more idling in the road. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Mom?” Ella yelled over her shoulder. “Come see this.”

  Donovan slipped on his boots and stepped outside as Mr. Brewster got out of his truck carrying not a new puppy this time, but a notebook. Donovan met him halfway. “’Morning, sir.”

  “We’ve been waiting for you. We figured you’d be up early. But”—Mr. Brewster checked his watch—“I guess we were wrong.” He glanced at the door and then grinned at Donovan.

  Donovan looked behind him to see that Hope was standing in the doorway, and then she disappeared. Ella had gone into the yard, her attention absorbed by the dog.

  Mr. Brewster nodded toward Boomer. “I see that runt is thriving.”

  Donovan had no interest in changing the subject. “I’m confused. Why is everyone here?”

  Mr. Brewster motioned to the cars. “This is your labor for the repairs on the lodge.” He handed over the notebook. “I’ve made a list of workers and what you’re to pay them given their different skills and experience.” He passed him a second notebook. “This is an itemized list of the repairs that need to be made to the hardware store. I have other workers meeting me there in an hour. I figure you have the lodge under control, so I appointed myself foreman of the hardware store remodel. You know, I worked there part time for nearly twenty years. I’ll even stay on to stock the shelves for you so you’ll be open in time for the Christmas Festival.”

  Donovan was speechless. He couldn’t believe Mr. Brewster had pulled this together overnight, while he and Rick had been spinning their wheels.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Donovan finally sputtered.

  “But, just tell me you have a list of things that you want done here at the lodge. Otherwise, all these people came here for nothing.”

  “Yes, I have a long list ready.”

  “I hear Hope is going to decorate for you,” Mr. Brewster said. “It’s good to see you two back together.” The old man gave him a stern look, as if a firm talking-to were coming. “But you two really should be married first before living together.” He nodded toward Ella. “It doesn’t set a very good example for little Isabella.”

  “We’re not—” Donovan started.

  But Mr. Brewster was already heading back to his vehicle.

  * * *

  • • •

  HOPE FLED TO the kitchen, her cheeks blazing. Everyone in Sweet Home knew she was “shacking up” with Donovan Stone! She rifled through the cabinets, looking for a stainless-steel carafe to put hot coffee in so she could start a new pot. Elsie used to have one here.

  Something was burning. She turned off the French toast.

  Ella came back into the kitchen. “Where’s the laundry room?”

  “Down the hall, last door on the right,” Hope answered. “How about some regular toast instead?”

  “I’m not hungry.” Ella grabbed a cracker on her way out while Hope tossed her burned breakfast in the trash.

  Donovan came into the kitchen, still looking shell-shocked. He took a slug of coffee before asking, “Why are you hiding?”

  “I’m not.” She opened the fridge and stuck her face inside, hoping to cool it off. Also, she had a good reason for looking in there. “I’m checking if we have enough food to feed everyone.”

  “Place a quick order with Piney and then I need your help picking out paint, tile, and furniture online.”

  Hope turned to face him. “You can’t pick out furniture online. You have to sit on a couch or test a mattress to see if it’s comfortable.”

  Donovan opened his mouth but didn’t get a chance to answer as Rick ambled in with a pleasant grin on his face.

  “What’s going on?” Rick asked.

  “Unexpected visitors,” Donovan said.

  “Who?”

  “A crew to start repairs on the lodge.”

  “Really?”

  “Did you call Mr. Brewster and set this up?”

  “Who’s Mr. Brewster?” Rick asked.

  “He’s an old friend of the family who’s appointed himself foreman of the hardware store,” Donovan answered.

  “Then who’s foreman here?” Rick asked. “If I get a vote, I vote for you.”

  “I’m delegating. I think you should oversee the lodge repairs. We should take advantage of all this labor while we have it.”

  “Okay, I’ll take care of ordering lumber for the lodge and the hardware store. Then what are you going to do?” Rick asked.

  “After I put in some online orders, I’m heading to the hardware store. It’s going to take a lot more effort to get the store up and running by Christmas than the lodge.”

  Hope’s stomach fell. Which was crazy. She shouldn’t care if Donovan was here, there, or in Timbuktu. Making Rick foreman for the lodge, though, felt as if
Donovan would do anything to keep from being near her. But he wasn’t wrong. The hardware store was a mess. To begin with, it needed a new roof, according to what Leaky Parks had told her a while back.

  Hope grabbed the notepad on the counter and took it to the table to start the grocery list. Unfortunately, instead of helping with the repairs, she would be spending her morning cooking for the crew.

  There was a knock at the door and then a “Hello.” It was Piney and Sparkle laden with grocery bags. “We come bearing gifts.”

  Rick hurried to Sparkle and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, but instead of lightening her load, he relieved Piney of her bags. Clever move.

  Sparkle blushed.

  “What’s in the sacks?” Hope asked.

  “Lunch for the workers and food to stock Donovan’s pantry. I figured since he was gone for a week his refrigerator would be empty.”

  Hope’s ears perked up. Piney sounded as if she knew where Donovan had been. Hope would be doing some arm-twisting later to find out what she knew.

  “Can you help me put everything away?” Piney asked.

  Hope asked her own question. “Who’s watching the store?”

  “Bill is manning the cash register,” Piney said.

  In all the time that Bill had been in Sweet Home, Hope had never known him to work at the store.

  “I’m headed right back but I needed to speak to you first,” Piney said.

  “Oh?”

  “You need to measure all the windows for new curtains here in the lodge and the cabins. Then look around and decide what furniture would look best.”

  Hope was torn. On the one hand, she had a definite vision for the lodge, but it might not match Donovan’s, which meant working closely with him. She dreaded being near him . . . and at the same time, she longed for it.

  “I see that look on your face,” Piney said. “But you’re the best one to bring this place into the new millennium. You’ve always had such great decorating sense. Look how you’ve kept the Hungry Bear’s front window looking so charming and up to date all these years. You yourself have said how much you’ve always loved this lodge.” She looked beyond Hope. “Donovan, what do you think?”