Love at Christmas Inn Collection 1 Read online

  “I can help you with that.” In an effort to stem a gathering storm, he lunged to his feet, gathered his notebook and hurried to the door. “Paulina, I think we’re finished here. I need to get back to work. I’ll give you a call when that supplier gets back to me, but like I said, we’re on track to finish early.”

  Taking Ms. Christmas by the arm, he hustled her out before Paulina had a chance to speak. Once the door had closed behind them he gestured down the hall, encouraging the socialite to take the lead. She started forward and he followed, trying not to notice the shapely legs tucked into knee-high black boots, or how her hips swayed beneath a knee-length black jacket.

  Taylor shook his head. Really? One smile and he was following her like a puppy dog—never mind that spoiled little rich girls were not his type. Honestly, Paulina Kovacs with her no-nonsense and practical manner was more to his liking. Maybe that was the real issue. He was fond of the manager and didn’t want to see her lose composure. He would like it even less if she got herself into trouble with her employer over something as silly as a stalled car.

  He’d just convinced himself that was the issue when little Miss Socialite stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. Those warm eyes settled on him and captured his gaze in a velvet vice.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was low and rich, like the melting chocolate of her eyes. Not silly or affected. Sincere. “I really appreciate your offer to help. I’ve never done anything like this. My family has a valet service for all of our people. Whenever I have a problem, I call the head of our service. Only now…I can’t call him.” Her tone faltered, wobbled just a little. Then she flashed that smile.

  “Anyway, most of the time I walk. You don’t really need a car in New York.”

  Perfect teeth. Full, pink lips. He couldn’t seem to take his gaze off her mouth. He didn’t know how long he stood there before her smile faltered, kind of faded. Only then did he realize he’d been staring.

  “No problem.” Taking her elbow, he guided her back down the hall. The sooner he got her car fixed and the woman well on her way, the better. “Usually your insurance will cover the towing.”

  She stopped again. “Uhhhmm…I don’t know my insurance info either. I bought the car just before I left. My dad added me to his policy over the phone so I don’t have any paperwork. Just a number.”

  Taylor sighed. “I know a great mechanic in town who does his own towing. We’ll call him and you can sort out the payment later.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  Don’t smile. Please don’t smile at me again.

  But she did and her perfect lips hadn’t lost any of their impact. If anything, her sweet smile hit his stomach like a punch. She didn’t notice what was surely another glazed look on his face because she’d opened the huge bag looped over her shoulder. It was the size of suitcase and sported a designer logo on the side. Probably cost more than one of his workers earned in a month.

  That dulled some of the effect of her smile.

  She rummaged around inside the bag for several minutes before pulling out a cell phone…a small flip phone that looked like it would fall apart as soon as she opened it.

  “If you’ll just give me the number of your friend—oh.” A frown creased the space between well-shaped brows.

  Taylor shook his head. “Let me guess. Your phone’s not working either.”

  She held it up. “It needs to be charged. I don’t have anything like that in my car. It’s a throwaway phone. I bought it…”

  “Just before you left. I get it. Let me call Dan for you.”

  He pulled out his phone and hit Dan’s number. As he began to speak, Ms. Christmas spied Jason walking across the lobby.

  “I’ll be right back.” She hurried across, softly calling Jason’s name. Just before Dan picked up on the other end, Taylor heard Ariana Christmas apologizing to the young bellhop about her assumption.

  Another surprise. Entitled folks usually never apologized. For anything.

  He gave Dan the information and put his phone in his pocket just as Ariana returned with Jason in tow. “He’s going to get my bags out before the tow truck arrives.”

  “Good idea. Dan said he could be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s really quick. I guess it pays to know people in Hope Creek.”

  Was she being sarcastic? Is that how she got things done in New York, using the people she knew? He studied her expression, trying to discern the hidden meaning. But all he saw was an open, far-too-beautiful-for-his-well-being face.

  Enough. “Well, you should be set now. I have to get back to work.”

  Before he could move, she grasped his forearm. Her fingers were slender with perfectly white-tipped nails. No marks. No callouses. Just lovely, white, unused hands…with slender gold bands full of chipped diamonds on three fingers. Definitely a month's worth of salary for a Knox construction worker.

  “Thank you.”

  Just like that, she did it again. Disarmed his rising irritation with a textured, sincere voice.

  “No problem. Glad to help.”

  He started to move away. But she grasped him arm more firmly.

  “No, I mean for all your work on Christmas Inn.”

  That caught him off guard.

  “I know I interrupted your meeting with Paulina and came on pretty strong. It’s just…well, I hadn’t realized how bad the conditions were here. I haven’t been back since…since high school.”

  That was true enough. Paulina had told him Ariana hadn’t returned when her uncle passed. Apparently her social calendar had been too full even to visit when her beloved Aunt Lizzie took ill and needed care. Fortunately, her aunt's best friend Roberta Cutler, also recently widowed, moved into the suite to provide her care.

  As far as Taylor was concerned that action added another black mark against Ms. Christmas. Family was everything. He'd put all his hopes and dreams on hold to take care of his family. She couldn't even be bothered to attend her uncle's funeral.

  He was beginning to better understand Paulina's resentment. She'd tried to hide it but Taylor had worked with the manager long enough to know when she was off her mark. When she relayed how Mr. Christmas had cut off his daughter’s funds and sent her south, Paulina couldn’t contain her disgust. “I have enough on my plate without having to babysit a prima donna. It’s like they're punishing me for her bad behavior.”

  Taylor’d thought Paulina was exaggerating but after what he’d seen today, she’d hit the mark. Ariana Christmas needed babysitting. He and Paulina had a strict time schedule and enough to do without the added stress of a helpless, clueless socialite…even if she did have the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.

  He gave a short, curt nod, making sure it was just a step above rude.

  "Just doing my job, Ms. Christmas." Then he turned and walked away.

  3

  Jason was an absolute sweetheart. After Dan the tow guy drove away, Jason carried her five suitcases and multiple carry-ons to her room. Ari wished she had a decent tip but all she could manage was pocket change dug out of the bottom of her bag. Her suite was in her aunt's house, adjacent to the inn, but it had its own entrance so she was able to slip in without disturbing Aunt Lizzie.

  As soon as Jason carefully placed her bags in a pile, she poured the coins into his hands. "I'm so sorry this is all I have. I promise when I have cash, I'll do a better job."

  A slight flush tinged his cheeks. "No problem, Ms. Christmas.”

  She rewarded him with a bright smile. Blushing more, he almost stumbled over her bags on the way out the door.

  As soon as he was gone, she unbuttoned her jacket, threw it to the bed and hurried to see Lizzie.

  Sunlight flooded the living room of her aunt's suite. Everything was just as Ari remembered. Old-fashioned sheers and 60's style gold, pinch pleat curtains on the windows. An overstuffed sofa and chair in gold brocade sat in a half-circle around the fireplace. Colonial style, dark wood end tables with claw foot legs. A grand pian
o tucked in the corner and pictures on the mantel. Everything spotless and certainly not showing the wear and tear of the furniture she’d seen in the inn. Still, none of the furnishings had changed since Ari was a little girl.

  All of Ari’s memories of her aunt were swathed in images from the past…classic sheath dresses modestly cut at the knees, a single string of white pearls around her neck and her white hair pulled back in a French roll, a la Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly.

  Ari had never noticed her aunt's outdated possessions or fashion—outdated even then, let alone twenty years later. All she remembered was her aunt's loving arms. The scent of her flowery perfume and her smiling face…that most of all. With no children of her own, Aunt Lizzie had always called Ari her "special girl." Ari’d spent every Christmas and most of the summer here while her parents traveled for business.

  Her aunt would push back the sofa so Ari could dance like a ballerina. Aunt Lizzie played the piano, classic for her ballerina moves, Big Band for her jitterbug and of course, rock and roll. She would dance for hours and Aunt Lizzie never seemed to tire of playing.

  One summer, her aunt set up paint easels in the garden for Lizzie and all the younger guests. The next summer she had a local swim teacher give lessons in the pool. Lizzie even bought a child-sized potter's wheel and placed it beneath the gazebo one summer. Ari and Lizzie's rooms were filled with misshapen mugs, bowls and pitchers for years.

  Of course, Aunt Lizzie claimed the lessons were for all the guests but Lizzie knew they were for her. She had many happy memories of Christmas Inn. After such a long time away, all Ari wanted to do was wrap her arms around her aunt and hold her forever.

  "Aunt Lizzie?"

  Roberta came around the corner from the kitchen with a tray in her hands.

  "Bertie!" Ari ran across the room. Her aunt's best friend barely had time to set the tray on a nearby table before Ari rushed into her arms, nearly knocking the older lady backwards.

  Bertie hugged her back and Ari squeezed her tighter. "My goodness! I think you're glad to see me."

  Ari held her at arm's length. Bertie had cut her salt and pepper hair into a fashionable bob that suited her no-nonsense personality. She had a few more wrinkles but other than that, the older lady looked exactly as Ari remembered.

  "I was beginning to worry. You should have been here an hour ago."

  "I had car trouble, but let's not talk about that now. Where's Aunt Lizzie?"

  "In her room. She didn't feel well enough to get up today."

  That didn't sound good. Ari turned to hurry away but Bertie grasped her arm.

  "Ari, you've been gone a long time. Things have changed."

  "I know, Bertie. Too long."

  "Your aunt…" The older lady paused then motioned her to move ahead. "Go on. You'll see for yourself."

  Ari spun and ran to the bedroom door, barely knocking before bursting into the room. Her aunt lay in the bed, turned toward the windows. Bright sunlight fell through the open curtain, spilling onto a pale, fragile creature Ari barely recognized.

  Aunt Lizzie wore a white nightgown. Her slender arms hid beneath long sleeves, and a high neck covered an even more slender throat. Her once-thick, lovely hair lay in thin wisps around her face and dangled raggedly to her shoulders. Her cheeks were gaunt and she had dark circles under her eyes. A tightness about her skin made the paper-thin flesh look about to burst.

  Ari could hear Lizzie’s breathing from across the room. Shock halted her footsteps. The raspy, wheezy gasps for air tore at her heart.

  "Aunt Lizzie?"

  "Ari?" Her aunt held out her hand. "Come closer. I may look like a monster but I promise I won't bite."

  Ari hurried to the bedside and grasped her aunt’s cool hand. "You don't look like a monster. Don't even say that."

  A brief, smile flitted over Lizzie’s mouth. "Maybe not a monster but I don't look good. You on the other hand, you're as beautiful as your mother."

  Her aunt closed her eyes and leaned back into her pillow. "What a beauty she was. She stole your father's heart the minute he saw her. She was only sixteen, here for the summer with her parents. Of course, he didn't marry her until they were older. He'd finished school and returned that summer to find her visiting with her family once again. I remember hearing the bells toll and I knew…just knew your father had kissed her for the first time."

  Ari had heard the story many times, but now, hearing it through her aunt's labored breathing turned Ari's blood to ice. The wonderful story that used to bring her such joy now sounded like an echo in an empty tomb. She blinked rapidly and looked down, hoping to hide her fear from her aunt.

  "That's enough talking now." Bertie had followed Ari into the room. "Save your energy for eating your lunch. Let Ari do the talking. I'm sure she has a lot to tell you."

  "I'm not hungry."

  "You need to build up your strength for your doctor visit tomorrow."

  "Don't fuss at me, Bertie. I said I'm not hungry."

  "You are going to eat this soup even if I have to sit on the bed and spoon feed you. Ari, why don't you get your things settled while Lizzie's eating."

  Ari stepped back and allowed Bertie to pull down the legs of the tray and set it across Lizzie's lap. Then she fluffed the pillows and helped her aunt rise. All the while, Lizzie complained and fussed at Bertie. Ari felt useless and helpless and continued stepping back…all the way out of the room.

  She stood at the living room window, shock still sweeping through her in waves, and watched the wind wash golden leaves across the grounds. Bertie came to stand beside her.

  “I knew she was ill. But not ‘can’t walk from the bed to the door’ ill. She’s dying, Bertie.

  “Not quite yet. Her heart's not pumping as it should so it's not pushing the fluids out. She's retaining water and now it's affecting her lungs. Tomorrow we're going to the doctor and I suspect she'll need a hospital stay so they can drain the fluids and get her medications adjusted. She should improve after that."

  "I should have been here. I’ve been gone too long.”

  "Yes, you have. Why did you stay away?

  An image of her family sitting around a Christmas tree, placed right where they were standing, floated into her mind. A good memory. Then another of Ian loading his bags into the back of a car, headed for college after a fun-filled summer here at the inn. A not-so-good memory. Then her aunt's frail body flashed into her mind and she closed her eyes.

  "I don't know, Bertie. I just don't know."

  Another minute here beside Bertie and she was going to burst into tears. “I’ll be back.”

  She turned and hurried to her room. But even that place seemed too confined, too full of memories. She ran back downstairs and through the breezeway. Stalking across the deck toward the grass, she kicked through the brittle orange and gold leaves that minutes ago had seemed so beautiful. Now they were a sharp reminder of death and dying. The cool crisp autumn breeze brushed over her cheeks. Only then did she realize she was crying.

  She hurried down the walk. Everywhere she went she saw signs of disrepair and neglect. Like her life. How long had she been running? Ignoring the truth. She remembered snatches of conversations between her father and brother about cutting their losses and selling the inn.

  Ari hadn't really paid attention because she never believed it would happen. They couldn't sell the inn. It was their heritage. Their blessing from God.

  As if they had a will of their own, her feet carried her to the white chapel, across Candy Cane Creek, and tucked into the back corner of the property. The lovely little church on the hill looked more gray than white. It needed a good painting. A board dangled loose from the bell tower and the doors hung at an awkward, canted angle, so they wouldn’t shut properly. A chain looped through the handles to secure them.

  Ari's great-great grandfather, Angus Christmas, had been one of the area's earliest settlers. He came west with his young bride, determined to minister to the other pioneers eking out a living in th
e new territory. They'd lived in a split-log cabin with a dirt floor while Angus built this beautiful little church. The bells had been shipped in with great care and expense. During the same time, her great-great grandmother buried their first-born in a plot behind.

  Angus said folks needed the bells, needed to hear the call of the Lord. The little church would be a safe haven, a place of comfort against the hardships they had to endure on the frontier. He was right. Folks came from miles around to worship in the little chapel and especially to be married. Angus rang the bells for services, deaths and births…for any occasion. Those bells were an important part of Hope Creek long after Angus passed.

  The Lord rewarded Angus's dedication and the bells continued to ring with each new pastor. In fact, the chiming took on a life of its own. Legend said the bells would ring when a couple, destined to marry, kissed for the first time. At least that's what Aunt Lizzie told Ari. Back then she’d believed it. When had she stopped believing?

  The image of Ian loading up his car popped into her mind again. Maybe that's when it started. Ian went off to school. Her father's work took him away from home for long periods of time. Management of their interests eventually even swallowed her mother's time and Ariana found herself floundering with no purpose, searching for an anchor and resenting the loss. Aunt Lizzie and Christmas Inn had always been that anchor.

  But just like the rest of her family, Ari forgot and abandoned her roots. By the time she went off to college, her family was split in different directions and she was in full rebellion mode, missing…she didn't know what. Until today, as she stood outside the white chapel.

  A gardener with a wheelbarrow full of dead leaves and plants passed.

  "Excuse me. Are you preparing the grounds for the next wedding? I want to be here."

  The middle-aged gardener paused. "No, ma'am. No wedding, just the usual fall cleanup.” His Tennessee drawl pegged him as a long time local.