Out in the Country (20 page)

“Careful--”

“I’m okay.” She smiled and stepped away from the creek; the ice had cracked straight through and the water rushed over it, streaming freely. “I’m okay,” she said again, and looked up at Rob. His cheeks were red with cold, but even so she saw a certain wariness in his features, and she had a feeling he knew what was coming. “It’s not going to work out between us, Rob,” she said quietly. “I’m happy here.”

“Couldn’t you be happy with me?”

“I once thought I could,” she said. “Now I’m not so sure. And to be honest, I’m not sure you’re sure. Do you think we could really last in the long term?”

“I wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Rob said, “although I don’t suppose anyone can really have an answer to that.” They stood there quietly, the only sound the rushing of the creek below their feet. “Is there someone else?” Rob asked at last and Jess took a long moment to reply.

“No,” she said, “but there could be.” The admission caused hope to bloom up inside her, unfurling its tendrils to wrap themselves around her heart. “There very well could be,” she said more firmly, and looked up at Rob, his hands shoved in his pockets, his expression rather grim, and smiled.

Rob left the next day. In a tactful gesture, John offered to drive him all the way to Burlington to catch a connecting flight to New York and then London. Jess was relieved when he was gone; she hadn’t realized how oppressive his presence had been, and now that the situation was resolved she felt as if a great weight had been lifted not just from her shoulders, but from her spirit.

Lynne seemed to feel it too, for once the house was empty of visitors--Sarah having taken the train back that afternoon--they both sat in the living room, stockinged feet stretched towards the fire, a bottle of wine between them.

“This is nice,” Lynne said almost sleepily as she sipped her wine. “As much as I like visitors, it’s good to have the house to ourselves once more.”

“Long may it not continue,” Jess added with a little laugh. “I don’t suppose there have been many more bookings?”

“No, but Sarah said she’d recommend the place to all of her friends... I suppose word of mouth is the best advertising of all.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Lynne got up to toss another log on the fire. It settled into the grate with a satisfying loud crackle before the flames took, sending up a cheerful blaze. “Let’s hope so,” she agreed, adding as she sat back down, “But I’m not worried about it as much anymore.”

“Why not?”

“There’s no real good reason,” Lynne admitted with a little laugh. “Maybe I’m just tired of worrying.”

“Or maybe
you realize there’s no good reason
to
worry,” Jess told her. She was glad to see Lynne looking less pinched.

“Despite the lack of reservations?”

“They’ll come,” Jess told her confidently. She
felt
confident, and amazingly relaxed and happy. “I feel it in my bones.”

Lynne laughed again. “So do I.” She paused, her face relaxing into thoughtfulness. “Somehow--it felt so right, all of us being here at Christmas--I can’t imagine it going wrong.” She glanced around the living room, cast into comforting pools of light and shadows by the flames in the fireplace. “Or having to leave.”

“Me neither,” Jess agreed quietly, and Lynne slid her a sideways, speculative look. Jess felt herself blush under Lynne’s scrutiny.

“Weren’t you even tempted?”

“You mean by Rob?” she clarified shrewdly, and then laughed. “To tell you the truth? No. Not one bit. Although I was flattered he made the effort of coming all this way. It’s funny,” she added, the realisation dawning with the words, “but having him arrive here like that was just what I needed to finally do as you said. Say a proper goodbye.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it,” Lynne said. There was a certain wistfulness in Lynne’s tone that made Jess gave her a curious look.
With a self-conscious smile, Lynne continued, “Opening the inn--in it’s own way--feels like a proper goodbye to Adam. He died so suddenly, you know. I saw him that last morning at breakfast and we barely spoke to each other at all. We weren’t arguing or angry or anything like that. It was just another normal day. The kind of day you take for granted.”

Jess nodded. She’d taken so much for granted too, once. “Until you don’t have them anymore.”

“Exactly. But coming back here has made me feel more connected to him, and that, strangely, has made it easier to let him go.” She gave a little laugh and shook her head. “I don’t even know if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Jess assured her. “And,” she added mischievously, “if we’re saying goodbye, we might also be saying hello.”

Lynne raised her eyebrows, but from the blush rising up her friend’s throat, Jess knew she’d taken her meaning. “Is there anything happening between you and John?” she asked, and Lynne’s flush intensified. She took a hasty sip of wine and nearly choked. Jess laughed aloud. “I suppose that says it all!”

“No,” Lynne exclaimed, sputtering. She placed her glass on the table with a clatter. “There isn’t. But--” She bit her lip, gazing into the fire. “I suppose there could be.”

“That’s a start,” Jess said, laughter lurking in her voice, and Lynne looked up.

“And that’s really all it is... for now. I never thought--” She stopped, shaking her head, and then with a smile, asked, “And what about you? If you’re going to grill me about John--”

“That was hardly a grilling!”

“Still,” Lynne said, pouring them both more wine, “I get to ask you about Mark.”

“Same as you, really,” Jess said as she took her glass and cradled it between her palms. “Nothing has happened yet, but--” She paused and then turned to Lynne. “I’m ready.”

At Christmastime, Valentine’s Day had seemed ages away, or at least plenty long enough for all the work to be completed. And while the plumbers and carpenters had packed their tools some time ago, both Lynne and Jess soon realized just how much there was left to do to get the inn ready for its first guests.

And there were guests, Lynne soon saw with satisfaction; Sarah had been as good as her word, recommending the inn to all of her city friends, and for several days the telephone was nearly ringing off its hook as New Yorkers hurried to book their winter weekend getaways.

“We need wireless internet access!” Lynne cried a bit frantically after one particularly demanding telephone call. “I never thought about it, but of course New Yorkers are going to want that--and tea and coffee service in the bedrooms--”

“Wireless access we can do,” Jess said firmly, “but tea and coffee in the bedroom is out. The pot and kettle will always be on in the kitchen, and part of the charm of this place is having everyone rub along together, not disappear into their bedrooms!”

“You’re right, of course,” Lynne said, rubbing her forehead. Despite her earlier optimism, a persistent headache had lodged in her temples as an ever-increasing to-do list ran through her mind in a never-ending reel. Just that morning John had reminded her, gently, that he needed to complete the fire safety inspection. “We do need little soaps and things for the bathroom--I was going to order them online--”

“Mrs. MacCready dropped a whole basket of soaps by,” Jess told her. “Her grandniece makes them--she has a soap works near Brattleboro. I thought it would be a nice touch, adding Vermont-made soaps. And they smell delicious--I almost thought they were sweets and ate one!”

They laughed together, and Lynne enveloped her friend in a quick, fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” Jess said, returning the hug before she moved to the oven to take out her latest culinary experiment, a pineapple upside down cake. “So am I.”

And yet still the days sped past; Lynne and Jess barely had time to sleep, much less see their friends, although the door to the inn was always open, and someone seemed sure to stop by, whether it was Kathy and Graham, or Mark or John or even Mrs. MacCready.

All too soon Valentine’s Day was upon them; the first guests were due that afternoon, and the Opening Day party was scheduled to begin at five o’clock. Molly was coming up for the weekend, and most of Hardiwick was set to join the festivities. The inn was decorated with armfuls of baby’s breath and pink peonies; Lynne hadn’t wanted anything too overblown. Jess had outdone herself in the kitchen with heart-shaped cookies with gorgeous pink icing and a festive-looking bowl of cranberry punch, as well as tray after tray of tempting delicacies.

The inn was humming with activity even before the party started; Lynne was checking on the bedroom for the first two guests--a young couple from Rutland--when the front door opened with a gust of cold air.

“Mom?”

“Molly!” Lynne hurried downstairs to hug her daughter, only to stop short when she realized she wasn’t alone. “Jason!”

“Surprise,” Molly said sheepishly, and Jason just grinned.

“I’m so happy to see both of you,” Lynne said, and hugged them each in turn.

“I went up to New Hampshire last weekend,” Molly said, her arm linked with Jason’s.

“A good visit?” Lynne surmised, her eyebrows raised, and Molly ducked her head.

“Actually, it was a bit more than that. I’m thinking of taking a break from teaching--relocating there to be near Jason. I’m not sure what I’ll do yet, but...” she nibbled her lower lip a bit nervously, “I’m got time.”

“Lots of it,” Lynne assured her. She put her arm around Molly, drawing them both into the comforting warmth of the house. “Close the door, it’s cold enough--and come in the kitchen! That’s where everyone ends up, it seems.”

Jess blew a stray tendril of hair from her forehead as she took another tray of mini-quiches out of the oven. She’d cooked enough for two armies, but you never knew how many people would show up at a party like this. All of Hardiwick had been invited, and it was more than likely that all of Hardiwick would come.

Lynne was giving Molly and Jason a tour of the upstairs, and John was outside, clearing the drive of branches that had fallen down in last night’s wind storm. Jess was glad of a little solitude, and after putting the last batch of quiches in the oven, she poured herself a rather large coffee and sat down at the big, scrubbed table, the pale winter sunshine streaming through the windows.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Slacking already?”

Jess turned, her heart seeming to leap right in her throat as she saw Mark standing in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame. She hadn’t seen him properly in weeks, and now that he was here, looking so sure of himself, all she could think of was their last conversation in this very room, when he had told her
I
’m falling in love with you, Jess...

She took a sip of coffee to steady her nerves. “There’s more in the pot, if you want some,” she said lightly, and Mark nodded his thanks, taking a mug from the cupboard.

The room suddenly seemed thick with unspoken tension and feelings. Jess gazed down at her coffee. Despite her earlier confidence with Lynne that she thought there could be something between her and Mark, that she was ready, she felt rather unprepared for any conversation they might have. And Mark, for once, didn’t seem quite so insouciant; he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Jess...” She looked up quickly, her fingers tensing on the handle of her mug. “I know this isn’t the best time, with the inn about to open, but I’ve been keeping my distance to give you the time and space to think over things--”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“Well, I don’t,” Mark told her ruefully. “I don’t know how you feel about me, that is. Or at least, how you could feel about me.”

Suddenly mischievous, Jess couldn’t help but tease, “well, you know I sent Rob packing rather quickly.”

“I was glad to hear it. But I’m still not sure what that means for me.” Mark waited, his eyes dark, his expression endearingly uncertain, and Jess knew then
that despite his charm and confidence, he wasn’t a bit like Rob. While Rob had scarpered the minute things had become tough, Mark had done the opposite, drawing closer, helping out, being a friend.

And now she wanted more. “You said you were falling in love with me,” she said slowly, and Mark swallowed.

“Yes,” he admitted quietly, and Jess reached for his hand.

“That’s a good thing,” she said, “because I’m falling in love with you.”

His hand squeezed hers, and they were both still wearing rather silly grins on their faces when Lynne and John came in, stopping short at the sight of them.

“Is there something I don’t know about?” John asked mildly when Lynne clapped her hands together and gave a little laugh of delight at the sight of Mark and Jess holding hands.

“Someone’s coming up the drive!” Molly called from the front hallway. “I think it might actually be--guests!” She sounded so incredulous that Lynne had to laugh.

“Right on time,” she said. “I’d better go and greet them.”

The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass in a wonderful blur of food and conversation. The guests, newly married and shyly appreciative, were welcomed and shown their room, which they duly admired, and then everyone returned downstairs to take some of Jess’s punch and cookies. With a big pair of kitchen scissors Lynne cut the pink ribbon over the front porch, officially opening the inn, even though the guests had already arrived.