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The Book Club Hotel(73)

Author:Sarah Morgan

She remembered her dad telling her that it didn’t matter how old your child was, they were still your child. “I expect she does this to you all the time. Tries to engineer dates.”

“This is the first time.” He kept his eyes on the road, leaving her to handle that revelation.

If Lynda had never interfered before, why now? Why her?

She stared at the side of the road, focusing on the gleam of snow picked out by the headlamps. She was overthinking things as usual. Dinner with a friend. That was it.

And it was good to leave the pressures of the inn behind for an evening.

Good to be with Noah.

The interior of the car was snug and her coat was thick and warm. Underneath those layers of wool she could feel the sensual slide of the green dress against her skin.

“I thought we’d get away from town,” he said, “that way we can both relax, and you won’t be worrying about who might be watching.”

“I don’t care who is watching.” She turned to look at him and saw the hint of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“That’s a relief, because no matter how careful we are we can probably guarantee that next time we’re in town for something, we’re going to be asked if we enjoyed our evening.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“I turned my back on big city living a long time ago, but I’m still getting used to the fact that folks around here know everything about you, and most likely everywhere you have visited in the past couple of weeks. Take yesterday—” He adjusted his grip on the wheel. “On my way to deliver a couple of trees to a family who lives on the other side of the valley, I called at the pharmacy to pick up painkillers for my father. His shoulder bothers him when the weather is cold. There were only two other people in the place, but by the time I returned home he’d had several phone calls, a casserole delivery, a tray of freshly baked brownies and several offers of help on the farm.”

She had no trouble believing him. “That’s great, but imagine if you’d been picking up something embarrassing.”

“Obviously, I’d drive to Boston. If it was really embarrassing I might have to fly to Alaska.”

She found herself relaxing. “When I discovered I was pregnant, Brent and I decided to keep it to ourselves for a while, but someone had seen me buying the pregnancy test.”

“Don’t tell me—you arrived home to find a baby outfit on your doorstep?”

“Almost. On my next trip into town, four people asked me how I was. And one actually pointed out that it would be a lot of work having a baby while trying to renovate the inn and start a business.”

“I bet you wish you’d thought of that.”

“Indeed. It’s sometimes aggravating, but more often it’s heartwarming.” She preferred to focus on the positive. “I like the human connection. It makes me feel as if I’m part of something. Maybe it’s harder if you have something to hide.”

“I’m sure it is. It would be hard to conduct an illicit affair, for example. If you tried climbing out of someone’s window to avoid being seen, you can be sure someone local would be standing there with a ladder.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

He smiled. “I prefer relationships where I can walk through the front door. And now tell me about the rest of your week. I was half expecting you to cancel. Too busy.”

She’d almost canceled a million times, not because she was too busy but because she was afraid. Afraid of herself. Afraid of where this might go, or where it might not go.

She knew instinctively that Noah could change her future.

“Not too busy. In fact, tonight is the first night in a long while that I’ve felt confident that I can leave the place without worrying that someone will walk out while I’m gone. Thank you for your messages checking on me. That was kind.” She didn’t tell him that she’d kept her phone with her constantly, and reread those messages multiple times.

“I was worried about you. I wanted to know you were all right. And you do seem all right.” He took the road that led to the next town. “Fill me in.”

She told him about Erica, and how Delphi had somehow bridged the awkwardness between them. And then she talked about Claudia and about how Chloe had blossomed in the few days she’d had full responsibility. “Stephanie thought I should fire her, but she’s proving to be more than an asset now that Stephanie’s gone.”

“People are often capable of more than they think, particularly when they’re given responsibility and allowed to use their initiative.”

“Yes.” She wondered if they were still talking about Chloe. “How about you? Christmas is your busiest time.”

“It is. Everyone wants a Christmas tree, although this year we’ve done well in the shop selling wreaths and the small pot-grown trees.”

They were driving along snowy roads, through small towns and past houses coated with snow and framed with lights.

Hattie felt a warm glow of contentment, and for a brief moment she felt the same childlike rush of excitement she’d had when she was young and contemplating Christmas, and it cheered her to know she could still feel that, that it was still there, because for so long she’d been afraid it had gone forever.

“I used to love Christmas. It was my favorite time of year.”

It was a moment before he responded. “And now?”

“I’m looking forward to it. And Delphi is beside herself. Pretty soon she’ll be counting hours, not sleeps.”

“Will Erica be staying on now that you’re getting to know each other?”

It was something she’d wondered herself. “I doubt it. She is a busy woman. She probably has plans. I get the impression she’s not the type of person who gets dizzy about the holidays. She wrote a letter to Santa. Her first one ever.”

“She did that?”

“Yes. She did it for Delphi, who was shocked that she’d never written.”

“She’s gone up in my estimation.” He glanced at her, curious. “What did she ask for in this letter?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me. Nor do I have a clue what Delphi asked for.” And it was bothering her. “If I don’t know, how can Santa bring it?”

“I hope that’s not a question you’re expecting me to answer because we’ve definitely strayed beyond the scope of my expertise.”

“I don’t know why she won’t tell me. She always tells me.” She frowned. “I just have to hope she loves what I’ve chosen for her.”

“And how about you? What do you want Santa to bring you?”

The question made her smile. “I think I’m low on Santa’s list of priorities.”

“You’re always thinking about other people. How about thinking about yourself for a change?”

For the past few years she hadn’t had the luxury of being able to put herself first. Even before Brent had died, they’d been so busy renovating the inn and then building the business that all she’d wanted Santa to bring her was a good night’s sleep.

But tonight, for the first time, she had no one to think about but herself.

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