“Believe it or not I remember those days well.”
“Really?” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t imagine Noah in any form other than a disturbingly attractive adult male.
“On second thought, forget the tea.” Lynda gently removed the mug from her fingers and gestured to the sofa in the corner of the room. “Close your eyes for five minutes.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t feel right.” But that didn’t mean she wasn’t tempted. She’d reached the point where she would have killed for just one hour of undisturbed rest.
“I think you’ll find it will feel just fine.” Lynda urged her gently out of the chair and toward the sofa.
“I should probably be getting back. I still have to decorate the library. It’s the last room I need to do. I should have done it before now, but things got away from me. I have a group of friends checking in—they’re a book club—” her head swam a little “—which made me think maybe we should make that a regular thing locally. Your book club meets in people’s houses on a Wednesday, isn’t that right? You could use our library. Sorry, how did I get onto your book club? What was I saying?” She stopped, her mind suddenly blank.
“You were telling me you need to decorate the library for guests checking in, and I’m telling you that you’ll do a better job if you’re not falling asleep on your feet.” Lynda plumped a couple of cushions on the sofa. “When I was a young mother the hardest thing was accepting help, but things were better when I did. Put your head down just for five minutes, honey.”
Hattie felt a rush of love and gratitude. It had been so long since anyone had fussed over her, and she enjoyed the novelty of being the cared for and not the carer. Sometimes doing everything on your own was hard. It meant you were constantly on alert, never completely able to allow your mind to shut down.
And there was no doubt it would be a treat to just close her eyes for five minutes. But still she couldn’t quite forget her responsibilities. “Delphi—”
“I can watch Delphi. I’m just pottering around here cooking and the child is happy enough over there, so snatch a few minutes while you can. I wouldn’t be surprised if she falls asleep, too, right where she is.”
Hattie glanced at her daughter.
Delphi was sitting cross-legged on a large cushion, two of Panther’s kittens in her lap and her favorite soft toy dinosaur on the floor next to her. She looked completely content and Hattie knew that any suggestion that perhaps they should be going home would be met with protest.
Beyond the windows snow fell, blurring the outline of the mountains behind.
Would it hurt anyone if she just closed her eyes for a moment?
“She’s fine.” Lynda reached for the throw draped over the back of the sofa. “It’s been a while since I’ve looked after a five-year-old, but I’m sure I still have what it takes. It will be good practice for when I’m a grandmother.”
“You’re going to be a grandmother?”
“One day, hopefully. Now lie down and rest.”
Did Noah know he was supposed to be producing a grandchild?
She was too tired to unravel the meaning from the words and somehow Hattie found herself sliding off her shoes and curling up on the sofa. Her head sank into the pile of soft cushions and she was instantly asleep. She didn’t even feel Lynda tuck the soft throw around her.
She woke to the sound of voices and lay there, disoriented.
Still half asleep, her brain kept trying to drift off again.
“Between running the inn and being a mother—and excelling at both—there is nothing left for herself. The girl is exhausted and that’s not good for anyone. Something needs to be done.”
“She’s not a girl.” This voice was deeper. Rougher. Noah. “She’s a woman.”
“I’m glad you’ve noticed. I was starting to wonder if you had eyes in your head.”
“Don’t meddle, Lynda.” Roy this time. “Leave it alone. It’s not your business.”
“I’m making it my business.” Lynda managed to raise her voice without actually raising her voice. “She’s as good as family and Lord knows she needs people who are as good as family because she doesn’t have any actual family. But she has us. And don’t tell me to leave it alone, Roy Peterson, because I will not leave it alone.”
“Maybe she won’t appreciate your interference.”
“Or maybe she’d be grateful for it. Just because someone doesn’t ask for help doesn’t mean they don’t want it or need it. Particularly women. Women are so used to coping that sometimes they don’t even realize there’s another way. We’re going to show her there’s another way. Good. So that’s agreed. You’ll take her out, Noah. Thursday works for me.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll have to babysit, obviously. Thursday is a good night for me. Tuesday is my choir practice and Wednesday is book club. The weekends are Hattie’s busiest time at the inn, so I’m thinking Thursday is the night that works for all of us.”
“Anything else?” Noah’s tone was somewhere between aghast and amused. “Would you like to pick a restaurant? Give me a script?”
“You can choose the restaurant, as long as it’s somewhere fancy. No burger joints, and nowhere too noisy. You need to be able to hear yourselves talk. Take her somewhere she needs to dress up a little and eat food she doesn’t cook for herself or the child. And as for a script, I’m sure you can formulate a sentence if you put your mind to it, but if you need some hints then I’d suggest you give her an evening where for once she isn’t an innkeeper or a mother.”
Lynda was trying to fix her up with Noah.
This was mortifying.
Hattie was fully awake now, but she kept her eyes tightly closed because this was not the time for them to know she’d overheard the conversation. Behind her closed lids she burned with embarrassment.
If she’d felt awkward around Noah before, it was going to be so much worse now. Particularly as he wasn’t exactly jumping at his mother’s suggestion.
“Mom—”
“Don’t mom me in that tone.”
“I’m a grown man.” His tone was surprisingly patient in the circumstances. “I don’t need my mother to organize a date. I can organize my own social life, thank you.”
“Well, forgive me for not knowing that. I can only go on the evidence before me, which is that you’re slower moving than your father.”
“I moved at the exact pace that was right for me,” Roy protested, and Noah reached across the table and helped himself to a slice of cake.
“And I’m doing the same.”
“When you decided to move back here, we were delighted of course. But I don’t like to see you sacrificing your own social life for this place. And I’m your mother. It’s not a crime to want to see you happy.”
“I’m happy.” There was a pause. “Has it occurred to you that she might not want to spend an evening with me?”
“You’re a grown man, as you keep pointing out, so I’m sure you’re big enough to handle rejection if rejection is coming your way.”