One Snowy Night

by Patience Griffin

  He came into the dining room. “I agree. I can’t do it all, Hope, and it would be great if you oversaw the decorating.”

  “The lodge is yours,” Hope protested. “It should reflect who you are and what you like.”

  “My taste isn’t the issue,” he said quickly. “I just want to spruce up the lodge to sell it. Don’t forget, I’m not staying . . .” Was she imagining it or did he look a little uncertain? Conflicted, too? Her heart fluttered.

  Stop it! Hope told herself. She needed to make He’s not staying her new mantra. He probably wished he’d never even brought up the Christmas Festival to the council. Well, she didn’t need him here. What she needed was Donovan gone so things could get back to normal. But maybe she shouldn’t rush him; without him here, she would be without a job and no place to stay.

  Boomer looked up at her with big sad eyes.

  “I bet you’d like some breakfast, wouldn’t you, little guy?” she said.

  Donovan pushed away from the counter, but she held up her hand. “I’ve got it.” She poured Boomer’s dry food into a dish and filled his water bowl.

  “All I care about is that the lodge should look Alaskan,” said Donovan. “And not old Alaskan like it does now.”

  Piney nodded. “Then it’s settled. You and Hope will work together to put the lodge and cabins to rights. Take your measurements, and then you both need to head to Anchorage. After you pick out furniture, hit the quilt shops for fabric for both the window treatments and the quilts.”

  “What?” Hope’s brain was buzzing as she tried unsuccessfully to block Piney from shoving a pad of paper at her.

  “Bill and I put together a list of possible quilts and the amount of fabric needed for each.”

  “Quilts? Seriously, Piney, you and I barely have enough time to make curtains.” And you’re nuts if you think I’m going to Anchorage with Donovan!

  “Good lands!” Piney said. “We won’t be doing this alone. We’ll enlist the help of the others in Sweet Home who can sew.”

  Hope knew her mouth was hanging open. “Well, I can’t—”

  Ella rushed in with her backpack dangling from her hand. “Mom, can I take the car to school?” She knelt down to kiss Boomer on the head.

  Hope was still staring at Piney. “I can’t go to Anchorage today. I have to take care of Ella.”

  “Hogwash!” Piney exclaimed. “Ella will come here after school and help Sparkle. Have no worries, buttercup. I’ll stay at the lodge with Ella until you get home.” Piney smiled at Ella as if she had a secret. “Ella has me and her dog to keep her company this evening, right?”

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Boomer and I can hang.” Ella had her hand out. “Now, can I have the keys?”

  “They’re in the basket by the front door.” She turned to Donovan to see what he thought about Piney’s steamrolling, the impromptu trip to Anchorage, and his reaction to the two of them obviously being thrown together.

  Donovan stepped into the fray. “Listen, Piney, I don’t have time to make a trip to Anchorage. Why don’t you take her? You and Hope can make a day of it. Besides, what do I know of curtains, fabric, and decorating?”

  Piney dropped her hands to her hips. “I can’t traipse off to Anchorage. I’m going to recruit people to sew. And besides, I have the Hungry Bear to manage as well.” She peered at him sternly. “I’d think you’d want to do whatever you had to for the sake of Elsie’s Wines of Alaska wine tasting.”

  He frowned at her for a long moment, an intense stare-down. Finally he caved. “Fine. For my grandparents.”

  Hope, completely unhinged from the exchange, followed Ella to the front door. “Are you sure it’s all right if I go to Anchorage?”

  “Mom, you do you,” Ella said snarkily. “I have to get to school.”

  Hope was sure Ella didn’t approve of her and Donovan going off together. She wanted to shout that this wasn’t a date, not by any stretch of the imagination.

  As Ella pulled on her coat, Hope said, “Text me when you get home from school. Come directly to the lodge so you can help.”

  “Keep track of your hours.” Donovan had followed, too, and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a notebook on the table where everyone is going to log in and log out. Just add your name to the list.”

  “Sure.” Ella squatted down to give Boomer one more kiss on the snout. “I’m outta here.”

  Hope felt a twinge of fear. What if Ella didn’t come home after school? What if she went out drinking instead?

  “Don’t worry.” Piney squeezed in beside her and patted her back. “I’ll look after her. I’ll text her when school lets out and have her run by the store to get something for the lodge . . . like lettuce. Something that might freeze in the car. That’ll get her here quickly.” Piney wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Go. Have fun in Anchorage. You never let yourself do anything because of that sweet cabbage of a girl. But you ought to be able to get out of Sweet Home now and then.”

  Yes, but this was different. Going to Anchorage with Donovan meant spending long hours in the car with him. Close quarters. She wasn’t sure her heart could take it.

  Piney didn’t seem to notice Hope’s apprehension and the fact that she was rattled. “I know you value your self-reliance, but we’re all here for you. I’ve told you a million times that it takes a village, Hope. It’s time you tap into your resources. We love you and Ella.”

  “I know you do,” Hope said. But the rest of Sweet Home could be a bunch of gossiping ninnies. Or at least that was what she’d thought at seventeen. But now—well, look how Sweet Home had pulled together for Donovan, the prodigal son. Momentarily, it made her heart full. “I better measure the windows. Donovan, do you have a tape measure?” she said over her shoulder.

  “I can do better than that.” He went to the small desk in the corner and retrieved a stack of papers. “You won’t need to measure anything. Courtney did it in preparation for listing the lodge. She gave me a copy of all the measurements and a layout of the lodge so it will be easier to pick out furniture. I’ll have Rick call ahead to the furniture store so they can have an experienced salesperson ready.”

  It was only eight o’clock in the morning but Hope already felt worn out. Plus her nerves were frayed at the prospect of spending the day alone with Donovan.

  “Let me get ready.” She’d need an extra notebook and sketching pad if she was going to make design decisions for the lodge. She also needed to pack an extra set of warm clothes, a blanket, and a few other items. “Donovan, you might want to bring along an extra set of clothes.”

  His eyebrow hitched up and she blushed.

  “In case of emergency,” she said firmly. She wanted to tell him to take his mind out of the gutter, but hers seemed to go there repeatedly where Donovan was concerned. “You can’t have forgotten that here in Alaska we have to be prepared for anything.”

  “Yes, right,” he said, chagrined.

  Piney hung her coat on the rack. “Before I head to the store, I’ll pack your food for the road.” She glanced at the clock, frowned, and then looked back at the both of them. “On second thought, don’t even think about coming home tonight. You have too much to do. I’ll definitely stay here with Ella, that is, if it’s okay if Bill comes out here for dinner with us.”

  “Make yourself at home.” Donovan patted Piney on the shoulder. “Thank you for everything, especially for looking after Ella.”

  Hope felt three emotions at once. First, resentment that Donovan would presume to thank Piney for looking after her daughter. Second, anger at Piney for insisting they stay the night in Anchorage . . . together. Third, complete and utter panic. What if being stuck in the car with him was too much for her? What if her emotions got the best of her and she told Donovan how she’d missed him all these years? How her heart was bursting with joy to have him back in
Sweet Home? How it’d been so wonderful for him to hold her and kiss her again? And that she’d like to do more of it?

  She needed to get a grip. In the meantime she went to pack.

  Within the hour, they were climbing into Donovan’s SUV with their emergency gear and overnight bags.

  “Rick gave me a list of stores to hit. I guess I’m going to be the assistant to the interior decorator today.”

  Hope shook her head. “I’m not the interior decorator. I’m just helping out . . . a friend.” It was a ballsy remark. She even dared to glance in his direction, only to be rewarded with a confused frown. Well, I won’t try that again. They weren’t friends anymore, only thrown together through circumstance. Oh, how her heart longed to be his again. But her good sense knew better.

  While he drove, Hope drew sketches and made notes of things the lodge needed, from towels to linens to wall décor. Anything to keep her mind off the chauffeur.

  “I have a question about the hardware store,” she said all businesslike, trying to come back from her earlier faux pas. “Are you going to put the quilt shop back within the store, the way Charles and Elsie had it?”

  “Mr. Brewster’s drawing does include that,” Donovan said.

  “I feel a but coming.”

  “There’s not enough time to order fabric, at least enough to make it look like it did before. Maybe the new owner will revive the quilt shop and bring the hardware store back to its former glory.” Donovan looked contrite. He probably didn’t know any more than she did what the new owners would do. But the quilt shop within the hardware store had been a real draw to their quirky, charming town. Visitors from all over had come to see it . . . and to shop. The thought made her sad, to come this far and not go all the way with the restoration. She realized that she’d even been imagining the revival of the Sisterhood of the Quilt.

  “Speaking of fabric,” Hope said, changing the subject, “did it register that Piney expects us to pick up fabric to make quilts for each of the cabins and the B-and-B rooms? It’s going to be expensive, you know.”

  “I think it’s a great selling point,” Donovan said. “If we can make this a turnkey operation, buyers should be lining up when I put it on the market.”

  There it was again. The one thing Hope was scared of—Donovan leaving—and at the same time, she was worried he would never go. She was in serious danger of falling for him so deeply that she would never recover.

  She tucked her fear away and concentrated for the rest of the trip on how to optimize their time in the city.

  When they pulled into Anchorage, it was midafternoon. “Big things first,” Donovan said. They headed to the furniture store.

  There they tried out every large comfy sofa for the living room, the gathering spot for the B-and-B guests and the cabin dwellers alike. The salesman assumed they were a couple and Donovan didn’t correct them. Her stupid heart played along, too. Picking out furniture for the cabins was easy, the same items for each one. Hickory log bed frames, side tables, and dressers provided the Alaskan flair Donovan was looking for. Plush hotel mattresses would give the feeling of luxury out in the wilderness. The bedrooms in the main building would have a more substantial feel, with cedar log beds, something the two of them decided upon together.

  “What about the non-B-and-B bedrooms?” Hope asked, referring to the family’s living quarters and feeling more than a little awkward when asking. It wasn’t like they were building a home together. “Do you want to do the same cedar log beds for those?”

  “No. I think we should differentiate the living quarters from the guest quarters, don’t you? Something more upscale?”

  “It’s your dime,” Hope said.

  “Come help me find what will work.” Donovan strolled over to the luxurious bedroom sets as if they were a staple in his life. Not the same boy she knew, who loved to camp under the stars and run wild through the woods.

  He insisted Hope try out each bed, lying side by side, deciding on the perfect firmness together. Where he was being practical, she was imagining choosing mattresses for the two of them. After testing nearly every one—and her nerves frayed beyond repair—they picked out the furniture for the family bedrooms, different styles for each. For Ella’s room, she indulged her whimsy and chose two wooden sleigh beds, something she’d always dreamed of having as a kid. For her room, she chose a more sophisticated look, a cream leather upholstery bed, one that would look great with a Barbara Lavallee–inspired quilt laid over a reading chair in the corner. For the master bedroom Donovan chose a massive four-poster bed that looked fit for a castle. The carved posts stood at attention like four turrets guarding the bed. Perhaps an extra loft quilt would work best with that one.

  “Now that we’re done here, let’s go buy the soft furnishings for the rooms,” Donovan said.

  Hope looked at her watch. “If we’re going to get fabric, we better do it now before they close.”

  “Remember my grandmother’s Sisterhood of the Quilt wall hanging?” Donovan asked. “Would you be willing to duplicate the quilt and update it with new fabric?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s your grandmother’s quilt.” The wall hanging looked like an aerial shot of a group of quilters’ hands as they worked on a simple quilt. It was one of a kind, special. And Hope had no right to change any of it.

  “I thought I might send the original to my father to hang in his home in Florida.”

  Hope felt foolish. “Oh. That would be nice. I’m sure your dad would cherish it. But maybe you should get Piney, Bill, or one of the other quilters to work on it. Someone who’s a better quilter than me.”

  He shrugged. “I want you to do it.” He had a sad smile but seemed determined.

  His insistence was really messing with her. And she tried not to read any more into it. Tried not to think that Donovan cared about her and wanted her to do this one special thing.

  “Okay, I’ll make it.” For you.

  “Thanks.”

  As they drove to the first quilt shop, Hope sketched the Sisterhood of the Quilt wall hanging and did some quick math to figure out how much fabric it was going to take. The way they were blowing through money, Hope was sure Donovan was going to max out his credit cards soon.

  “How about we hit two shops today and then a couple on our way back tomorrow?” She checked his expression before saying the rest. “I know I mentioned this before but you do understand that the fabric for the quilts isn’t going to be cheap, right? We could buy some inexpensive comforters at Walmart that would look great.”

  “I know that would be fine, but it’s not just about selling the place, Hope. I have a vision for it, something my grandparents would be proud of if they were here.”

  “As long as you’re aware.”

  At the quilt shop Donovan stood close while Hope pulled bolts and had the sales help start cutting while she went to get more. Her bank account would never allow a shopping spree to buy any fabric she liked without concern for cost. And she loved every second of it. The store clerks seemed excited to get such a large order so late in the day. Donovan didn’t even flinch when he was told the total, but instead gave a friendly smile to the cashier as he handed over his credit card.

  They arrived at the next quilt shop just as it was closing. Hope was almost giddy when she found the Barbara Lavallee Arctic Wonders fabric and took it to the cutting table. She pulled out her phone and turned to Donovan. “Look at this. Isn’t this quilt so Alaska?”

  The shop owner peeked over Hope’s shoulder. “Oh, that’s the Arctic Adventures pattern from Patti’s Patchwork. We have that one. Let me get it for you.”

  Donovan smiled at the picture. “That quilt will look great in your bedroom.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. But it’s not my bedroom. Just a place I’m staying for now.”

  He gazed at her as if they’d never been apart and all their
history was shared. “Your bedroom, Hope. Nan always insisted you should call the lodge home.”

  “Yeah, well, that was a long time ago.” Why did he have to look at her that way? Stir up old feelings? She could feel her cheeks getting warm and she grappled for something to say. “Elsie would be tickled that there are going to be special quilts in every bedroom. I remember her talking about doing it herself.” Hope had already bought moose fabric, bear fabric, even Highland cattle—Highland Coos—fabric for the cabins. Tomorrow, she’d look for some buffalo plaid for the boys’ rooms. “So . . . do you know what you’d like for the master bedroom?” It was awkward for her to ask. It wasn’t as if they’d ever share the room together but her mind went there anyway.

  It had been one heck of a day, with her feelings going haywire. Out of control . . . Frazzled! Excited! And at the same time, she knew she was getting all worked up over nothing.

  “I don’t know. What do you think?” Donovan said, bringing her back to center.

  “Honestly, I think you’ll need to tone down that bedroom set with something more delicate.” She held out some fireweed and forget-me-not fabric. “Something like this.”

  “I like it. Let’s get it while we’re here.”

  Hope picked out the coordinating fabric but knew she’d want to speak with Bill and Piney before cutting into it.

  “We can come back here in the morning and get more fabric, if you need to,” Donovan suggested.

  “That’s okay. I think this is it for here.”

  After a shopping trip that was more fun than Hope had dreamed, they drove to a restaurant down the street, where Rick had made them a reservation.

  The restaurant was thronged with diners in nice clothes, clinking glasses and making a din. She’d been in Anchorage with her dad, of course, but she’d never been out on a date there. Not that this was a date! She laughed to herself . . . as if she’d know what to say or do on a date. Hope tried not to feel embarrassed when Donovan slipped an extra bill to the maître d’. Was it because the maître d’ was staring at Hope’s old brown parka and secondhand black skinny jeans? She could dimly remember a time when clothes had been important to her, but that was before she had rent, car payments, and a child to raise.