Out in the Country (16 page)

“We can’t.” In her mind’s eye Jess could see the order they’d just placed for heart-shaped invitations to the grand opening party, the Valentine’s Day-themed brunch she’d already planned, the advertising that had gone in several magazines with the February opening prominently listed. “Delaying our opening will ruin customers’ confidence before they’ve even tried us out!”

“What can we do? We’re stretched as it is, Jess, and now to put a huge cleanup operation on top of that...”

“We can hire cleaners...”

Lynne shook her head. “Our budget is stretched to the wire, and the payments on our business loan begin in January.”

Jess shook her head, refusing to give in or even to feel overwhelmed. She was done with that. “There have to be some alternatives.”

Lynne sighed wearily. “I can’t think what they are.”

Jess felt a surprising little spark of annoyance. “Come on, Lynne. I’m usually the gloomy one. You’re the one with a pep talk in her pocket.”

“Not this time.” Lynne sank into a chair, her elbows propped on the table, her head in her hands. “I’m all pepped out. I don’t know what I was thinking, believing I could manage this. Opening a bed and breakfast! I’ve never even had a proper job.”

“What do you call the last twenty-five years?”

“Being a housewife and hostess?” Lynne looked up, smiling wryly although Jess saw the bitter defeat in her friend’s eyes, and it alarmed her. “It doesn’t really count for much.”

“It does.” Jess sat down next to Lynne. “You have a great instinct for everything, Lynne, from knowing what magazines to advertise in, to what colour scheme to decorate the living room--not to mention the amazing weekend specials you’ve come up with! Your March Maple Madness idea was brilliant.”

“We don’t have a single reservation.”

“It’s the first week of December! We have loads of time.”

“I don’t know.” Lynne shook her head, nibbling at her thumbnail. “I just don’t know if we can do it, Jess.”

“Well, we certainly can’t just sit here moaning,” Jess said briskly. “You’re allowed a cup of tea and five minutes’ more worry, and then we’ll get to work. If we can’t hire cleaners, we’ll just have to do it ourselves.”

“We’re already stretched--”

“I’m very flexible.” Jess smiled breezily. “I think I can stretch a little more.”

Lynne’s eyes were bright as she smiled, shaking her head in wonder. “What would I do without you, Jess?”

Jess felt an invisible fist squeeze her heart. “Heavens, I can’t imagine,” she said, plonking the kettle on the stove and turning the gas flame to high. “Good thing you’ll never find out.”

A few minutes later they were just sitting down with mugs of tea when a knock sounded at the door. Lynne raised her eyebrows over the rim of the mug. “I’m not expecting anyone--”

Laughing, Jess rose from the table. “This is Hardiwick. Even I’ve come to realise that the door is always open. I’ll get it.” She walked briskly to the front door, humming under her breath, determined to stay optimistic for Lynne’s sake as well as her own. She felt as if she’d spent the last few months in a perpetual fog of gloom, and it was strange that a near-catastrophe would finally burn it off. Now Jess felt a firm sense of purpose strengthening her determination and buoying her heart. She opened the front door and started in surprise.

Mark stood there, a bucket at his feet, a mop in hand. “What--” Jess began, and Mark grinned.

“I thought you might need some help with the cleaning up,” he said. “I have very cheap rates.”

“Do you?” Jess arched one eyebrow, a ridiculously wide grin spreading across her face. She was happy to see him, too happy perhaps. “Because we don’t have any money to spare.”

Mark nodded solemnly. “I charge a scone an hour and dinner with one of the owners of the inn by the end of the week.”

“One of the owners? I’ll need to check with Lynne--”

“All right, I suppose I need to be a bit more particular. Dinner with the owner of the inn who has a distinct brogue--”

“I do not!” Laughing, Jess pulled him inside, liking the way his hand encased hers. “You came just at the right moment. Lynne’s feeling a bit discouraged, and we were about to bring out the buckets and mops ourselves.”

“Well, she’ll be glad to know I’m not the only one coming over,” Mark said. “I know John is organizing a work crew, and Agnes MacCready said she’d even roll up her sleeves.”

“Agnes!” Jess exclaimed in surprise. “I suppose going to the Highland Games was worth it, then!”

“You went to the Highland Games?” Mark sounded both disbelieving and impressed.

Still laughing, Jess led him to the kitchen. “Yes, I’ll have to tell you about it... over dinner.”

In the end over a dozen people came over to help with the cleaning and repairs, and by mid-December the front hall and stairs were looking better than ever, and the ensuite bathrooms--and all their pipes--were finished and repaired.

Lynne sat at the desk she’d moved into the little box room off the kitchen. It now served as her office, for as she dealt with reservations and advertising and insurance, she found she needed a bit more space. Now she glanced at the ledger Jess had bought her, with ‘Reservations’ embossed in gold in front. When she’d first turned the stiff, white pages, she’d imagined seeing them filled with names and dates. Yet as she glanced down at pages for the weeks in February and March, they were nearly blank.

She was trying hard not to be discouraged, especially as so many people had rallied around her, bore her up when her spirits flagged. She was so blessed, she had no right to feel down at all. And yet... those blank pages glared at her, mocked her dreams, as did the silent phone. She opened a country lifestyle magazine and flicked to the advertisement she’d placed in the back. Advertising space cost a good deal more than she anticipated, so the ad was small and rather unprepossessing, yet Lynne had hoped it would catch someone’s eye.

Come get away from it all in the unique and historic town of Hardiwick, Vermont. Enjoy panaromic views, a lively and friendly community, and the best pancakes and maple syrup you’ve ever tasted at the Hardiwick Bed and Breakfast, grand opening February 14...

Sighing Lynne let the magazine fall closed. How many people were going to respond to a quarter inch of small type in the back of a magazine? Or even one of the flyers she’d had delivered to various restaurants and businesses? They needed something more, something special, but what?

Shaking her head, she pushed the magazine away and rose from her desk. It was already dusk, and she had agreed to have dinner with John that evening. At the thought her stomach gave a curious little flip. After months of deepening friendship and their almost-kiss several weeks ago, this would be their first proper date. Lynne felt both nervous and excited by the prospect.

The first stars were twinkling high above, and the air was cold and sharp as John led her out to his pickup truck an hour later. Laughing, Lynne let him help her up into the truck’s cab.

“I shouldn’t have worn heels.”

“I should have warned you I’d be bringing my truck.” He made a face, his smile gleaming in the near darkness. “I’m afraid I’m really a country boy.”

“I like country boys,” Lynne told him as she settled herself in the passenger seat.

“We don’t have the polish those city guys have,” John said as he swung up into the driver’s side and buckled his seatbelt.

“I’ve had enough of polish. After twenty-five years in the city, I find I don’t miss it all that much.”

“You haven’t been back since October, have you?”

“No.” Lynne gave a little sigh. “I know I should, especially for Molly’s sake. And Sarah--”

“Sarah?”

“My best friend in New York. She didn’t like me moving here. I think we’ve drifted apart without even meaning to, or realizing.”

“Why don’t you go back, then?” John suggested as he drove down Hardiwick’s main street and out of town, the world softened in snowy darkness around them. “Do a little Christmas shopping?”

“I could...” Lynne began, hearing the uncertainty in her voice. John heard it too.

“But..?” he prompted.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready.” She gave a little laugh. “That sounds really odd, no doubt, but I feel like I’ve created a new life here and to go back--even for a visit--” She shook her head, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. Why on earth shouldn’t she go back to New York? It would be good to see Molly and Sarah and her other friends. She
did
miss the bagels at Zabar’s and her subscription to the Philharmonic. And only a few weeks ago she’d been thinking of inviting Sarah here. Yet the confidence she’d felt then had been sapped by the various setbacks to the inn, and Lynne knew she couldn’t face returning to New York and having Sarah or anyone else imply that she couldn’t make a go of it here.

“I understand,” John said gently as he turned into the restaurant’s car park. “It’s hard to flit between two worlds. Why do you think I stayed in Hardiwick?”

“Did you ever think of going anywhere else?”

John shrugged. “I went to Burlington for college, and I did a couple of seasons working ski patrol over at Stowe. But other than that? No, not really.” He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt and going around to open the door of the truck for Lynne. “I told you I was a country boy.”

Lynne glanced at him, wondering if she was imagining that light of vulnerability in John’s eyes. Was he actually worried that she might find him rustic or boring? The city and its urban glamour held no allure for her now. “Like I said, I like country boys,” she said, taking his hand as she stepped down from the truck.

They walked together into the restaurant, a restored farmhouse decorated in maple sugarging memorabilia. Lynne exclaimed over the old tin pails and spigots, turning to John with eyes alight. “They really make use of their history. That’s what I want to do.”

“And you’re doing it, “ John reminded her gently. “Think of that blueprint.”

Lynne nodded, and the tightness that had been in her chest--all the sadness and worry--eased a little bit. As the waitress seated them at an intimate table for two, the room cast into pools of light and shadow by flickering candlelight, she realised just how much she was looking forward to this evening.

It all passed too quickly, in a lovely blur of shared conversation and laughter, so before Lynne even knew what was happening they were walking out to the truck, John’s arm slung around her shoulders as he guided her across the icy car park.

Then they were in the truck, speeding through the darkness, and Lynne was left with the surprising and almost sorrowful thought that she didn’t want the evening to end.

“I know what you should do,” John said as they drove into Hardiwick.

“That’s an intriguing statement,” Lynne returned wryly. “What are you referring to, exactly?”

“I meant your worries about the bed and breakfast,” he explained with a chuckle. “The problems of reservations and advertising.”

“Oh?” Lynne tried to keep her voice light, despite the knot of worry that seemed lodged permanently between her shoulder blades. For a few blissful hours, she’d forgotten it, but now it came back, persistent and aching.

“Use your connections.”

Lynne raised her eyebrows. “What connections?”

“Oh, Lynne, come on. Did you or did you not live in New York City for twenty-five years?”

“Yes...”

“You know people there. Plenty of people, people who would love a weekend getaway. People who probably know people who would love it too. Isn’t that what city life is all about? Networking?”

“I thought you were a country boy,” Lynne teased.

“I hear things.” John slid her a sideways grin. “Don’t cut off the people from your past completely,” he said more gently. “They’re part of you too.”

Lynne opened her mouth--to say what? She wasn’t even sure. She couldn’t argue with what John was saying, and the desire to do so left her before she uttered a word. “You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “I suppose I’ve been avoiding it all, but it needs to be faced.”

“And perhaps it won’t be so bad.”

Lynne nodded slowly. She wasn’t even sure what she was afraid of, or why she felt like going back to New York would be difficult. She knew John was right; she needed to go. She needed to involve the people from her past city life in her present country one.

They’d arrived back at the house, and John parked the car in the drive. Suddenly Lynne felt as fluttery and uncertain as a girl on a first date. She
was
on a first date, even if she was no longer a girl.

“Well.” John smiled, tapping his fingers against his thigh. Was he nervous too?

“Well,” Lynne repeated, and gave a little laugh.

“I’ll see you inside,” John said, and climbed out of the truck. Whatever little moment had transpired between them there--the possibility of something more--had passed, and as he walked with her up the drive he was businesslike, navigating the icy spots, and leaving her at her own front door.

“Good night, Lynne,” John said, smiling in an almost wistful way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And before Lynne could even say good night back, he was already down the path, swallowed in darkness. She stood in the cold for a moment, watching as he got in his truck and started the engine, still standing there shivering as he backed down the driveway and then was gone.