'Twas the Week Before Christmas (5 page)

BOOK: 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
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“Maybe,” he said. He couldn’t really say what his mother hoped for anymore. Once, he’d known what all her hopes and dreams were, and he’d foolishly thought he could be a part of them, too.

Max rubbed his jaw. He wondered if she had found a way to make her dreams come true. If the sacrifices she’d made had been worth it to her.

If she ever thought about him at all.

He forced a smile, brushing aside an image of the last time he had seen his mother. Her absence was his answer. She’d followed her dreams, maybe even fulfilled them. She’d moved on with her life. A life without him in it.

“Will you be spending the holiday with your parents?” Evelyn pressed.

“Nope,” Max said simply. He tried to ignore the heaviness that was forming in his chest. Sensing Evelyn’s alarm, he said, “They’re away.”

Not the truth, per se, but not a lie, either. His parents were away. Where they were, he hadn’t a clue, but away, yes. They were gone, long gone. Even before they disappeared in the physical sense, they’d always had one foot out the door, searching for escape in one form or another. His dad found it in the bottle, but his mother... Well, she had greater aspirations than caring for an unwanted kid, it seemed.

“Well, then why don’t you stay and have Christmas with all of us here at the inn?” Evelyn suggested, her face lighting up at the idea. “Nelson and I would love that. And Holly, too, I’m certain... I mean,
Miss Tate.
” She paused. “She’s quite pretty, don’t you think?”

Max bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. She always found a way of squeezing Holly in, didn’t she? Any thoughts he had that Holly might be spoken for romantically had been erased by Evelyn’s overt matchmaking when it came to her beloved innkeeper.

“In fact,” Evelyn remarked, “she’s really far more than pretty. One might even say that Holly is beautiful.”

Max chuckled softly but he couldn’t deny Evelyn was correct. From her soft hazel eyes flecked with green to her silky chestnut hair and those perfectly full lips, Holly was truly beautiful. Both inside and out, he mused, recalling that dazzling smile that caused her eyes to twinkle.

“Mmm, quite,” he said to Evelyn.

Evelyn latched onto his words. “Then you’ll stay through the holiday?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll need to be getting back to New York before then.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows knitted with indignation. “Whatever for?”

“Work?”

“No one works on Christmas!” Evelyn said, her agitation building.

“Holly does,” Max pointed out.

“Well, that’s
different,
” Evelyn said petulantly.

“Is it?” Max asked mildly. “How so?”

“Holly loves what she does.”

Max shrugged. “So do I,” he countered.

Evelyn sighed in exasperation. She was a feisty little thing, and much as she was getting irritated, he could tell she was enjoying herself, too. “It’s different. This is Holly’s home. And she likes having guests in her home for Christmas. It isn’t work to her. It’s...an invitation to share the holiday.”

A hush fell over the room. Max felt a punch to the gut at the sudden revelation. Evelyn was right. This was Holly’s home and she was purposefully filling it with strangers for Christmas.

Where was Holly’s real family?

* * *

“And then there were five.” Holly placed the key to the Orange Room in the drawer and waved sadly as the Browns rolled their luggage through the lobby and out into the cold late afternoon. The Dempseys and Fergusons were already gone, and with the departure of the Browns, that left only the Adlers, the Connellys and, of course, Max.

Abby turned to her. “Anything I can do?”

Holly glanced at the clock. “Has Stephen started dinner prep yet?”

“I could check.”

“Thanks. Let him know about the new head count.” Holly made a note about the change in reservations. This storm was costing her more than personal company; it was costing her money, too. And with the purchase of the estate only five days away, she wasn’t in a position to be taking a financial hit.

By now, every reservation scheduled through the first of the year had called to cancel. Their money had been refunded in full. Those who checked out early were also refunded their money—Holly wouldn’t have felt right keeping it from them when some, who were scheduled to leave tomorrow or the day after were simply afraid of not being able to get home in time to spend Christmas with their families. She would hardly feel justified in penalizing them for such a basic desire, even if she had been depending on their stay.

Oh, well. She had the money for the purchase of the property, and anything else would have just been a nice little cushion for getting through the slower months after the holidays. George Miller had agreed to a price that was both comfortable and fair to her. It wasn’t a small sum, but it was worth it to know that the property would be hers and that her home could never be taken from her.

She’d already lost enough for one lifetime. She needed to know that some things were there to stay.

“Holly.” Dana Connelly swept down the staircase. Holly knew what the woman was going to say before she even spoke. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to check out early.”

Holly managed a brave smile. The snow hadn’t stopped all afternoon and dusk was fast approaching. “Did you want to try and leave in the morning?” she asked.

“We think it’s better to leave as soon as possible. Before the roads get worse. We can be home in two hours if we leave now.” She must have sensed Holly’s growing disappointment because her rich chocolate eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Holly. But if we wait until the morning, who knows what we’ll be waking up to out there.”

Holly forced a bright smile, knowing she had no right to feel let down. These people were her customers. They owed her nothing. She was providing them a service, not the other way around. If they wanted to leave early, she shouldn’t be making them explain on her behalf.

It was just another aching reminder of how badly she wanted a family of her own. She was trying to fill the void with this playhouse she had created and, while it served its purpose, ultimately she could not depend on her guests for anything more than they were willing to give. They passed in and out of her life with pleasantries and warmth, but they were not permanent fixtures.

Her chest squeezed tight. Max was no different.

“Of course you can’t wait until morning,” Holly said to Dana. This was the Connellys’ third visit to the inn in the last year. She would see them again. But for now, she had to let them go. “This storm is unpredictable and I’d hate for you to miss out on Christmas with your families.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Dana said.

“Oh?” Holly pulled up the Connellys’ records and changed their bill before sending the file to the printer.

“This year we’re having Christmas with my husband’s family,” Dana continued in a meaningful tone. She locked eyes with Holly and Holly smiled, her first real smile since she’d left Max at the diner.

“I have a feeling you’re not too excited about that.”

“Oh, to put it mildly,” Dana said with a sigh. “Personally, I’d rather be snowed in here for the holiday but...”

“But responsibilities beckon?” Holly flashed her a conspiratorial grin.
Guess that’s one thing I don’t need to worry about,
she thought, suddenly perking up a bit. In-laws.

Dana leaned in over the desk and hissed, “They never end!”

Holly laughed despite herself, feeling better than she had in hours. “Here’s your bill. I didn’t charge you for the weekend, of course.”

“Oh, let us pay! The cancellation policy says seventy-two hours, doesn’t it?”

“No, no,” Holly said dismissively. “It’s not like I would have filled the room anyway.”

Dana lifted her eyes from the invoice. “Is everyone else checking out then, too?”

“Looks that way.” Holly sighed.

Dana turned to the window. “It’s really unfortunate.”

“It is what it is,” Holly said blandly, sadness creeping in again.

Dana suddenly smiled. “Well, one good thing has come out of all this for you. Now you won’t have to worry about taking care of guests during Christmas!”

Holly managed a brittle smile as Dana ascended the stairs to fetch her husband and their luggage.
If only she knew
.

Deciding it best to tell Stephen they had lost yet another couple for the night, Holly wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen where Stephen and Abby were chopping carrots for the stew.

Holly grabbed a sugar cookie shaped like a star from the tray on the counter and took a bite, ignoring Stephen’s arched eyebrow. “The Connellys are leaving.”

Abby set down her knife. “What do you think we should do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Holly said. “Evelyn and Nelson are still here. And Max.” Her heart soared at the thought of him. Just saying his name made her feel close to him, and the image of his rugged face and dazzling blue eyes made her want to be even more close to him.

Stephen finished dicing the carrots and plucked an onion from a wooden bowl on the butcher’s block. With an expert hand, he peeled and halved it, and then quickly chopped it into parallel strips. He rotated one half clockwise and ran his knife down the other side. Scraping the pieces from the cutting board to the large pot on the stove he said, “Well, there’s enough here to feed twenty. So I guess we’ll be having leftovers.”

“How are we with supplies?” Abby asked, delicately veering the discussion back to practical matters. “If the storm hits tonight, we want to make sure we have enough to get through.”

“We have enough,” Stephen replied. He slung a dish towel over his shoulder and turned to Holly, meeting her square in the eye. “But before I keep going with this, you might want to check on the rest of the guests and see if they even plan on sticking around.”

“Stephen!” Abby gasped.

Holly stopped her. “No, he’s right. I’m being completely unprofessional, and that isn’t like me. I’m going to go check on the Adlers and, um, Max. If they want to leave early, they should know they have the option. I’ll go now.”

Abby held her gaze. “Okay.”

With more bravado than she felt, Holly pushed through the kitchen and into the dining room. Her heart plummeted when she saw Evelyn and Nelson standing in the lobby.

“Miss Tate!” Evelyn said sharply when Holly came into view.

“Yes, Mrs. Adler?” Holly asked, though she didn’t need any clarification for the purpose of Evelyn’s visit to the lobby. Something told her that the couple was not here for the gingerbread house decorating competition that was scheduled to start in—Holly glanced at the grandfather clock—twenty minutes.

“I’m so sorry, dear, but I think we might need to leave early.”

“But—” Holly wanted to ask what better plans Evelyn could have for Christmas but managed to stop herself in time. She really was losing sight of her hospitality today, wasn’t she?

But Evelyn and Holly had known each other long enough to understand the unspoken. Evelyn’s watery blue eyes drooped at Holly’s distress. When the older woman reached over to touch her hand, Holly had to fight to hold back the tears that were threatening to form. She swallowed a painful lump in her throat.

“You know how much it means to me to spend Christmas at The White Barn Inn,” Evelyn said. “But we’re supposed to be going to Florida two days after Christmas. And if we get stuck...”

Holly nodded briskly, not daring to speak for fear of choking on her own words.

“Oh, I’m torn, Miss Tate! The tree lighting is tonight, and I bought a new hat especially for the occasion. Red with black faux fur...” Evelyn glanced around the room in agony, wrestling with her own emotions. “The thought of leaving all this—” She swept her arm around the room, gesturing to the twinkling Christmas tree, the stockings hanging from the mantel, the mistletoe sprigs under every doorway and the garland framing the windows.

It was Holly’s turn to comfort Evelyn. She squeezed the woman’s hand tight, realizing how small and frail it seemed in her own. “It will all be here next year, Mrs. Adler.”

Evelyn’s worried eyes clasped with Holly’s. “You’re sure, dear?”

Holly smiled warmly. “Of course I’m sure.”

Evelyn searched Holly’s face, her gaze unrelenting until her fear had subsided. Shaking slightly, she let go of Holly’s hand and turned to her husband. “Okay then,” she said. “I guess we should go.”

“It’s the smart thing to do, Evelyn,” Nelson said kindly.

“He’s right,” Holly mustered even though she wanted to cry out and beg them to stay through the rest of the week. “Getting home safely is most important. Do it for me, Mrs. Adler.”

Evelyn pinched her lips and wiped away a tear. “Has everyone else decided to leave as well?”

Holly opened her mouth to respond when her attention was suddenly pulled to the edge of the room, where Max was sauntering down the stairs into the foyer, a pleasant expression on his handsome face. Evelyn turned to follow her gaze, her mood immediately brightening.

“Well hello again, young man!” she cooed, clasping her hands in unabashed joy.

Max stifled a smile as his cheeks grew pink. Holly herself could barely keep from laughing at Evelyn’s reaction to his arrival, but a bigger part of her felt nearly sick with dread. The thought of Max leaving the inn tonight was a reality that she wasn’t ready to accept. The chances of a man like him passing through her inn again were slim to none.

“Max and I had a lovely chat this afternoon,” Evelyn beamed.

Holly lifted an eyebrow and smiled slyly at Max. “Oh?”

“Ah, yes. Evelyn did me the honor of stopping by my room today,” Max informed her, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

Holly bit her lip. She didn’t even want to think about what might have been said during that conversation.

“We were just telling Miss Tate that we sadly have to leave early,” Evelyn explained and Holly felt a stab in the chest like she was hearing the words for the first time. “Will you be checking out early as well?”

Holly held her breath and the room went still as she waited for his response. She didn’t dare look at him for fear he would see the anguish in her eyes.

BOOK: 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
13.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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